Unseen Threads
by mintaminta
Summary: Harry is seeing things that aren't really there and the unseen consequences and connections of these visions are deeper than anyone anticipated. HPDM SLASH, strong T.
1. Unseen Threads

Title: Unseen Threads

Author: mintapotter

Overview: Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

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Unseen Threads

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Chapter One - Connected

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I guess it all really started about a week into summer vacation. Ever since Sirius died I replayed the memory of his… death… in my dreams, the hot nights keeping me awake for hours on end. I sometimes thought I saw him walking in the park or at the corner store, but I was always wrong. This never added up to anything, at least not until the day Ron and his family came to pick me up and whisk me away from the Dursley's. The only reason Dumbledore still wanted me back there at 4 Privet Drive was to make sure any protection that came from my aunt stayed with me, and a week seemed a nice round number to stay. So, back to my story.

"So Harry, we're all here! I forgot to add it in my letter to you but we're making the run to Diagon Alley today so all your stuff will… Harry? Helloooooo?"

Ron was being overly cheery for my benefit and I managed a fake smile to please him. The truth was that ever since Sirius died I'd been kind of numb. Stuff that should make me angry, sad, happy or scared just couldn't do it anymore. Only when I thought I saw Sirius was I remotely happy, followed by a few hours of deep depression before sinking back into the familiar numbness. Ron waved a hand across my face but I continued to stare distractedly into the green Ministry car parked on the street. He even stepped in front of me to obstruct my view but this only caused me to crane my neck around Ron.

"Uh…. Harry? Something wrong?" He was completely puzzled and I knew better then to keep him in the dark about anything, it only set to piss him off.

"Who's that in the car?" A man I'd never seen before sat in the back seat beside Fred and George who were talking amongst themselves. No-one paid him any attention or talked with him; he just sat there in a crisp dark grey suit and stared out the window. At me.

Now some people would just walk up to the car and ask later about who he was but not me. I have lived through too much to simply let anything out of the ordinary to slip by. Anything a little off, a little weird was alarm in my mind, and this guy set it off pretty badly.

"Who mate? That's just my family, you know, the people I live with? And some Order members are there too but you can't see them because of the charmed windows." He was peering into the car now as well, not sure of who I was talking about.

"That man you idiot, the one staring at me right now, beside Fred! Who's he, he's really creepy." It was true; even if this was some distant cousin of Ron they bared no familial resemblance at all. He had short black hair and a clean cut face, but I couldn't quite make out his eye color through the window. Kinda creepy.

"Harry, there's no-one there." Ron turned slowly back towards me now, a look of confusion and concern on his face. "There is no-one there Harry, I swear."

Now he gave me a skeptical look, andI felt a wave of deja-vue like this had already happened. In essence it had. The first day back during 5th year we had a nearly identical conversation about the thestrals attached to the carriages, but I silently prayed this wasn't another 'omen of death'. I get enough of those from Trelawney, thank you.

So, I did what I naturally do. I lied.

"OH, it's Bill back there! I really need a new prescription mate; do they sell glasses in Diagon Alley, by any chance?" I tried to remain normal and cheerful, as though that was all a big misunderstanding. Ron gave me a half smile and bent down to help me carry my trunk down the front steps.

"Yeah, sure. They do I think, we'll ask Dad." He was obviously skeptical but I remained impassive, pretending the man wasn't there. Which was difficult at best.

You see, since the beginning of this year's summer we have had NO breaks in the heat. I was wearing jeans and a thin red t-shirt. A couple skirts and shorts mixed in, but anything more equaled your sure ticket to heat exhaustion within minutes. This man however was in a full suit and tie but hadn't broken a sweat. It wasn't right; there was something off about the entire situation.

Anyways, we reached the car and I stalled for some time by going round to the boot with Ron to chuck my trunk in. As soon as this was done the inevitable happened. Mr. Weasley exited the car from the front driver side and went to the back to greet me.

"Harry! So glad to see you, I hope you are feeling better. Molly had a right fit about you being here at the Dursleys'. She's already at Diagon Alley doing some shopping with a friend of hers." I smiled a little at him as well, trying to appear recovered and happy. At least a little bit.

"No sir, I'm really doing fine thank you." He smiled back and proceeded to open the door for Ron and I. The exact door that the man was sitting beside.

I hesitated, scared to enter the car beside him. "Well come on then, we haven't all day!" He grinned again and ran back to the front of the car and jumped in. Ron was watching me for a reaction, I could feel his eyes on my side.

"You ok mate?" he was watching me but my eyes were quite busy. I stared into the mans eyes, and he stared back.

Only there weren't any.

Not like he didn't have eyes it was just that… they were white. They had no middles, no iris, and no pupils. Just white. This was enough to stop me in my tracks but what he next did actually chilled me to the bone. He smiled. Not a friendly smile, I twisted one, the kind Voldemort should be famous for. Then he stepped out onto the pavement right in front of an openmouthed Ron, slammed the door shut and winked.

At me.

Now the next chain of events wasn't typical. Ron stepped back as though burned onto the sidewalk, his blue eyes wide with fear and awe at me and the door. The man, he just turned and walked away, down the street. I could hear every click of the heels of his shoes, the swish of the fabric of his pants. Everything. But Ron wasn't staring at the man now, he was staring at me.

"How? How did you do that?" He was gaping at me now, jaw still dropped.

"Do what? Didn't you see that? The man?" I was amazed at how, _how_, Ron hadn't seen him, felt his presence even. He had been _right in front of him_!

"You! You just stared at the door and it slammed shut! Then you looked away and… when did you learn to do that?"

"I _didn't_, aren't you _listening_ to me? That man did it; he's walking down the street! Can't you see him; feel he's here or something?" I hissed at Ron, on the verge of screaming at his complete stupidity. And sure enough, when I turned around the man was still walking away, hands in pockets.

I gave up on being discreet; the entire car was silent and tuned into my conversation with Ron. I ran down the street and turned to face the man.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" I was breathless and starting to sweat from running, but he was cool as an ice cube. And he just frowned at me this time, and walked away.

"DON'T WALK AWAY! WHAT ARE YOU?" I was screaming now, a small crowd of nosy neighbors peeking from windows and bushes to stare at me. They gave each other knowing looks but continued to pretend to prune the bushes or wash the dishes as if I simply wasn't there.

He turned looked at me sternly, and mouthed words I didn't understand, and then started walking away again. I was frustrated beyond belief, and exasperated at getting nothing from him. So I turned and walked past all the gaping neighbors, back to the car. Every Muggle on the street was ready to swear an oath that I was completely nutter and the crowd from the car wasn't far behind. Everyone was standing around it now, watching me walk back. A pile of frizzy red heads gaped at me; Hermione was with them as well, as were Tonks and Moody. I just took a seat in the back beside Ron and stared straight ahead.

"Can we uh, go now? Before the entire street mobs us or something. I'll, I'll…explain. Later. Just go." Mr. Weasley simply nodded at me and started to drive away, the rest of the car talking amongst themselves. The car was of course enchanted, so from the outside you could see through the front and back windows, as usual. Inside there were two added rows of windows and doors to exit and enter from, but from the outside it appeared to only have two.

"Harry? What exactly were you yelling about out there?" Moody was the only one with enough nerve to question me a few minutes later. Both of his eyes were fixed on me and even in the sweltering heat he was wearing full wizard's robes. Typical Moody.

"A man. A man was here, I need to tell Dumbledore. As soon as possible, if that's possible." Everyone else was silent but Hermione turned around a few minutes later and was the first to break it.

"Harry, no-one was there. We were all watching you." She was wearing a face of deep concern, trying desperately in her every perfect mind to find an answer to this. Her scrunched up face looked comical, the heat and humidity had gotten to her now super bushy hair. I couldn't find it in me to explode at her when she looked like that, and not in front of everyone else either.

I turned my face towards her, "When I saw what I thought was my father you said it wasn't real. Its turns out it was me. When I saw the thestrals you thought I was crazy. Turns out they're real too. Just because everyone else doesn't see it doesn't not make it real. It's just like…magic. Muggles can't see it or use it, but some of us know it's there." I was impressed by my own calm, considering the situation. This was a new feeling for me, this serenity instead of anger or hurt.

"Now Potter, can you describe what he looked like? This could be an omen or a warning perhaps…" Mad-Eye was watching me with both eyes now, as was everyone else in the cramped car.

"Yes, I took a coarse on this while becoming an Auror. Maybe we can figure it out!" Tonks was perpetually happy like a little wind up toy that just keeps going. She gave me a welcoming smile, her little heart shaped face now framed by a light blonde pixie cut.

"Well… It's more than a little creepy. Sorry if this haunts your dreams or something but…" I turned my eyes to Ginny and continued, "It was just a man. Normal, dark grey suit, black tie, but he wasn't sweating or anything though. But his eyes were white; there was no middle part…" I launched into a detailed retelling of the past few minutes happenings and was received in the end be a thoughtful silence.

"I believe," started Mr. Weasley, licked his parched lips and slowly weighing each word before speaking it, "that we should continue with our plan for Diagon Alley and tell Dumbledore as soon as possible. As soon as we arrive I think Tonks should alert him with a report of the situation. Then we can decide what needs to be done. But for now, I think it best not to overreact, but to spend a nice day together. Everyone agreed?"

Everyone, more or less, nodded their agreement at this idea. Hermione didn't seem too pleased at this, probably wanted to go to Dumbledore right that moment and itching for a copy of _Human Omens and How to Interpret them_, but she remained silent for the rest of the ride.

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Diagon Alley wasn't nearly as packed as when I was normally there during the school rush. The streets shimmered with the constant heat and held tiny vendors with shacks full of interesting things instead of being filled to the brim with school children and their bustling parents. After a quick stop in Gringotts bank I set out with Ron and Hermione.

"Harry, I'm really sorry you had to see that. I would have lost my head and screamed bloody murder or something. No eyes? I mean, that's really out there…" Hermione trailed off, sharing a deep look with Ron.

I HATE it when they do that about me, like they both know so much about what I'm thinking. At least I used to hate it; now I kind of don't really care.

"It's not that bad really, I've seen worse. I guess I'm sort of, desensitized? I can see stuff now that bothers normal people but I just don't… care." As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them. They made me sound like some poor lost soul, like a charity case that had been through_ so much_. I didn't want pity, I wanted…

"Listen, we get it. You can talk about if you need to, but you don't have to explain yourself to us." I love Ron, I truly do. He's just gets me sometimes, and at times like those I really feel terrible about all the yelling and snide comments I make to him and Hermione.

So, we spent the day nicely, wandering through the vendors and buying our school supplies (Dumbledore had given us advanced lists for some reason) as we went along. A silent agreement had been signed by all of us to not bring up the man or anything else traumatizing in my life. And I must admit, for one afternoon it was really a pleasant change. Then my afternoon altered again. For the worse, of course.

Ron and Hermione were bent low over a table, laughing at some spinning trinket or another. It sparked something happy inside me to see them so happy, so oblivious to all the bad things around us.

And there was the man, bright as day. Only he was real now, more real then before at least. He had dark blue eyes, startling blue. His skin wasn't as pale as before, a little sweat glistened on his brow and his hair was more windblown and natural looking. He was laughing too, a hearty laugh with another business man. He hadn't made a sound before; he had just smiled and winked. He seemed a little out of place in a suit during this weather but some wizards were still wearing thin cloaks, like the man he was laughing with.

The other man had shining blond hair, and his cold laugh I recognized immediately. It was Lucious Malfoy.

I was stunned. For one, Lucious Malfoy had been sent to Azkaban, along with Crabbe and Goyle's fathers. He shouldn't be here; he shouldn't be out and about at all. And the other man, the one from the car? Had it been a premonition to our meeting, was this an omen of some kind? Could I see the future?

Draco was standing behind both of them, in the shadows. He eyed me and smirked, as though reading my mind about the thoughts of his Father being out in public. His lip was split straight down the middle, no doubt a full cock-and-bull story about how he had won a fight barehanded to get that thing. Her noticed me but didn't move from leaning against the wall, or notify his father. He just smirked, as though thoroughly enjoying the look on my face.

And then the oddest thing happened. I was so numb; I felt nothing about the situation. I didn't register as hot or cold, or happy or sad. I just overloaded on thoughts and feelings I guess, because I no longer cared. I watched as the two men said their good byes, and then the man, the man from the car turned to see me. He only flicked his eyes over me for a second, and then smiled. The evil, malicious twisted smile of before. Then he winked, just a tiny wink at me and started to walk away. But before he did, Draco ran over to him as I had an hour before.

"Will we being seeing you soon?" this was an out of the place question, but Draco asked it as though it had a hidden meaning. He kept his stormy grey eyes downcast, his head bowed a little. The man had stopped smiling now, he seemed angry about something.

"No, you most definitely will not. Goodbye Draco." The man was cool and efficient, sweeping past Draco smoothly and continuing up the street. But it just seemed a bit off. The whole encounter was stiff and stilted, as thought their words didn't mean what they meant at all but were a code. Draco returned towards his Father, continuing to keep his eyes downcast in shame, or anger, I really couldn't tell. But Lucious Malfoy waits for no-one and was already walking briskly away in the opposite direction.

"…Harry? Harry, you zoning out again mate? What are you…?" Ron had finally looked up from the trinket table with Hermione, but didn't even have time to finish his sentence.

I ran towards Draco full tilt, slamming into his side before he even knew what was happening.

"_AVADA KADAVRA!" _a low voice screamed from the shady alleyway which Draco had moments before been leaning near, but I didn't see anything. I reacted on instinct, without a second thought. I could almost feel a wind at my back and simply knew that the curse had barely missed me. Screams rang out up and down the street, people were running, tripping over each other and cursing all around. I kept my head down until I heard the thud.

"HARRY! HARRY!" Ron's voice pierced my thoughts but I kept my head down and stuffed into the body below me. Tears were already streaming down my face. I knew what had happened. I didn't need to see it to know, I just did.

Ron's strong arms pulled me up off of Malfoy but I slumped into a sitting position. A woman lay dead in the street only meters away, meters behind me and Malfoy. I wish I were dead, I wish none of this had happened.

"Harry, snap out of it! Can you see me? Can you hear-?"

"Of course I can hear you. I just don't feel like talking. I knew it would happen like that, I knew it was coming. I just… Malfoy? Malfoy?" I didn't mean to snap at Ron but I couldn't help it.

I had pushed Draco down only moments before the curse would have hit him and he was evidently still stunned. His blonde hair was wildly shaken about his head and his grey eyes were wide with shock. He stared into my eyes for a minute or maybe hours, I couldn't tell. He still didn't know what I had pushed him down for, he still couldn't tell what had happened around him. But his eyes weren't their usual angry selves, they were pleading. Like he didn't want me to beat him or overpower him; like he wanted my help. But he was up with a shot and a sneer, it nestled itself quickly onto his face. He still hadn't seen the body; I had covered him so that it was behind me.

"What the flying FUCK was that about Potter? I didn't even do anything to you! Trying to get me ki-"

"HE JUST SAVED YOUR WORTHLESS LIFE YOU LOWLY PIECE OF SHIT!" Ron screamed bloody murder at Draco's face and caused even his eyes to widen with fright. Ron bore down over Draco while standing over him by some inches but physical looks weren't the only dangerous weapons he had. Had looks been able to kill Draco wouldn't have even been able to been saved by myself, Dumbledore or Voldemort himself.

Draco was standing up, I could feel him beside me; his Father came into view again but I just sat at his feet. I could see him yelling; see Ron screaming at Draco and Draco screaming back. Hermione was desperately trying to hold Ron back from strangling Draco while Draco's own Father couldn't even be much bothered about the health of his son. I couldn't hear them though, I didn't want to. I wanted to see the woman. I needed to see the woman I killed.

The crowds were completely frenzied by now, yelling and screaming and crying all mingles together in the sticky air. Nothing in particular came through however; I tried desperately to peer through the crowds legs at the woman. I tried to analyze her on the ground, not listening to Ron and Draco anymore. She was facedown on the pavement and her leg was bent a little funny underneath her. A group of witches and wizards around her were trying to turn her over and cover her up properly; a vendor from a little ways down brought out a white lace tablecloth to cover the body, but for a moment I saw it. The woman was in her forties or fifties, light red hair with some grey streaks in it as well. Her face was still in shock, the mouth a little open and the eyes wide. They thankfully didn't seem scared though, just a little startled.

It was the face that had given me so much comfort for so many years, the face I recognized instantly and nearly as fast regretted looking at.

It was the face of Mrs. Weasley.

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Feedback is always welcome!

mintapotter


	2. Sorrow

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N: **Thank you to **Avalon Princess**, **Blue Lycan**, and **Moonlit Eyes**!

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Chapter 2 – Sorrow

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_**And I have never felt**_

_**Quite this close to hell**_

_- Hawksley Workman_

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I felt the first emotion in weeks that wasn't false hope or complete sadness when I saw Mrs. Weasley's petrified face. I felt shame. I felt ill. I felt wretched and terrible and worthless all at the same time.

Somehow, in my completely fucked up life I had managed to kill my best friends Mother. My surrogate Mother, if you will. I felt myself chuckle a little, a sure sign that I had officially lost my mind. I had seen both of my Mothers die and had the cause in the both of they're deaths. No it wasn't intentional but I had a hand in it as much as the person who had cast the spell. This is the sort of thing that shouldn't logically ever happen, shouldn't even be thought about. But somehow, somehow, I had done it.

I just sat and let the crowds around me swell; they screamed and cried and yelled enough to show only a fraction of what I felt inside. Combined with the sweltering heat on the outside and the chill I felt in my veins I nearly convinced myself that I truly was in hell. I finally got up when I registered a voice in my mind, Ron's.

"I want to see who it is, I need to-"

"No Ron, you don't." He stared at me with wide open blue eyes, confused at my sudden change. I guess he thought I wasn't talking anymore or was in shock and didn't expect me to be up so soon. My voice was thin and very, very strained but I forced myself to keep a stony face and an impassive voice. I couldn't break down I front of him now, he'd know then. He'd ask and I wouldn't have the capacity to lie so I couldn't let myself feel anything. At least not for right now.

"You haven't had to see death and you shouldn't start now. It won't make you feel any better, trust me. Just don't, we need to get out of here anyways." Even Draco was watching me as I said this and a weird sort of silence followed. His Father was still standing beside him with a tight grip on his arm.

"We are leaving now Draco, come on." He stated simply and began to walk away as though expecting to walk along like some trained puppy. But Draco just stood there and watched me with an impassive face and without turning replied.

"No. I'm staying here."

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I knew how my Father would react. I already knew what would happen if I went with him now, knew what I'd get for any disobedience. I couldn't go with him now though; he was already pissed off to begin with. The fact that his 'client' wasn't returning was enough for him to thoroughly yell at me at home but me not listening was a felony.

I couldn't even watch him when I said it; I didn't have the strength to do it. I have been the weakest form of a person for so long that I almost forgot how to say no. but this was different, a real life person had died instead of me. I needed to stay here, I needed to be with these people and not hidden away at the Manor.

"Excuse me? I said we were leaving Draco, so get moving." My Father lowers his voice when angry rather than raising it, causing it to sound very cold and very menacing. A shiver ran down my back but I stood steely still and didn't move a muscle.

"If he wants to stay you can't make him leave. He needs to know what happened anyways, the Ministry of Magic will need to interrogate him as well." I looked up from my shoes and into Harry Potter's eyes. He had not only saved me but was defending me against my own Father. He wasn't even watching me though; he was checking Ron's reaction to this all too obviously.

Thankfully he was right though. The heavy cloaked Ministry of Magic Aurors and workers were already filtering down the street towards us, along with a very prominent man. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. Never in my life had I been so happy to see a familiar face, albeit his. I knew from the moment he was on the scene that everything would be taken care of and I was safe. Safe for now.

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I know that Harry's protective of me and Hermione, I know this quite well. Sometimes he shows it as anger, but underneath we know he's just trying to protect us from whatever it is he thinks might cause us danger.

Now, after acknowledging this I must say that between me and Hermione we don't often listen to his advice. Sure, sometimes we tread a little more carefully but we're naturally snoopy people who have a deep need to know. About everything.

"No. I'm staying here." I was floored by Malfoy's response. Not only was he not going with his Father, we was going to stay with us? That little ferret could kiss his ass goodbye if he thought he'd be welcome to stay at all.

"Excuse me? I said we were leaving Draco, so get moving." His Father was pissed, really pissed. I can say I didn't really care though; Draco deserved whatever was coming to him. He always did.

"If he wants to stay you can't make him leave. He needs to know what happened anyways, the Ministry of Magic will need to interrogate him as well." Harry somehow always manages to surprise us with his actions. I can't believe that he's defending Malfoy, even under these circumstances. I was ready to invite Malfoy to leave but I finally got my chance to see the person, whoever it was that died. Harry, Malfoy Jr. and Sr. were all watching Dumbledore come down the street so I slipped away from them a second to see the woman. Hermione was consoling some poor girl who had watched it all happen and was in hysterics on the curb so she didn't notice me leave.

The crowd didn't notice me at first, didn't acknowledge me as anyone special. But for some reason as I got closer to the center they started casting looks my way and the whispering started too. I tried to ignore them but by the time I reached the edge a group of Ministry workers actually held me back. Specifically me.

"Sorry, you can't enter this area son." A kindly Auror held me back ad tried to push me away and back into the crowd. His partner and him shared a look at me and continued to push me away. The whispering was worse now, everyone was turning to look at me, and some people were even pointing. But I knew this Auror, he knew my Father from work. His name was… Morrison?

"Morrison? What's going on, why is everyone?" He shook his head and looked down and away from my eyes when I caught them. He was hiding something, I was the only specific person there he didn't want to see the body. But what could possibly be under there that I shouldn't see?

I stepped away for a moment as the thought formed in my mind. Someone I know. A friend, and acquaintance, and student, and… family member? No, I wouldn't even think like that, they were all away from here at the time; I hadn't seen any of them.

My stepping back made the Auror think that I wasn't going to try and look so in his split second of letting his guard down I darted past and gasped.

Someone had covered the body on the ground with a pristine white lace cloth, but it was just barely too small. Red haired streaked with some grey peaked out the end and I instantly knew who it was.

My Mother. Mum.

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Dumbledore walked straight up to me in the crowds, they parted to let him through without pausing to think. He was flanked by more Ministry officials and commanded respect by his simple presence. He looked oddly out of place out here on the street, he was wearing light blue robes and had obviously been in a well cooled office only moments ago.

"Harry, I've recently been alerted of what happened back at 4 Privet Drive and would like to ask you some questions about it but now this…" he waved his hand and sighed at the street, "this must be taken care of first. I was told on the way here of who the deceased is and I must inform you Harry-"

"I already know Professor. I saw. Just don't say anything right now, Ron's-" I whirled around to here an anguished cry from within the crowd and instantly knew who it was.

Ron.

I ran inside the crowd to find him, console him, restrain him need be and all the people around me just parted in near silence.

Ron stood before me with a hand covering his mouth, tears in his eyes not even forming yet. I could tell what he was feeling, it was grief beyond tears. He turned away from the body ever so slowly and what felt like hours later removed his hand.

"You saved. Draco Malfoy. For my _Mother_?" he was whispering and the tears were already forming in my eyes. This was a fact I already knew, something I would never get over. But in all the years I've known Ron he has been happy for me, sad for me, jealous, cheerful and pissed off. But never truly angry. And for some completely unknown reason he wouldn't start now. His voice wasn't accusatory but just stating a fact.

"He… I'll kill him. I swear, I am going to kill him." He walked past me and when I reached out to grab his arm he already flinched away from the touch and out of my grasp.

Draco was facing him now with his Father behind him and completely trapped. In one direction was Ron who I didn't doubt for a moment who think twice about strangling him and on his other side was his Father; no doubt ready to punish him suitably at home. Draco didn't move away or flinch, he just looked away.

"RON! DON'T…"

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I heard Harry cry out for me and didn't care at all.

Draco Malfoy has ruined near everything in my life, but he was not getting away with this. His life had been traded for my Mothers and he wasn't going to live to enjoy it.

"Malfoy you killed my Mother and I am going to kill you." My own voice sounded distant to me and cold as ice. His eyes widened for only a second before becoming clouded with some feeling. He now knew who he had killed and it wasn't my problem about how he felt.

He had been warned.

The moment I reached him I punched him swiftly across the face and from there all the anger and hatred towards him took over. I just pummeled every inch of him that lay before me. I saw the crimson blood on his fair skin and didn't care, I could hear the bones snapping and breaking but didn't think of how he felt. His blood was literally on my hands and I didn't care at all. All I wanted was for him to die and if this was how it was going to happen then so be it. His Father didn't step in and a number of people around me didn't even try. Harry did though and I don't even remember punching him but I know I did.

It was Dumbledore who moments later got me off of him with a well placed hex before I stopped. He didn't once punch me back or defend himself; he knew he was responsible. This made me glad and I smiled but instantly knew how wrong that had been. His nose had cracked loudly under one of my fists and now red blood gushed out of it and streamed down his face. His hands were smeared with it and covered his face; his eyes were squeezed shut in pain but some tears ran out of them and mingled with the blood as well. But for all the pain I put him through he didn't once fight back, scream, yell or whimper.

I was wrong.

My Mother died and it _shouldn't_ have been him. It shouldn't have been anybody.

He felt accountable and he felt awful about it. He was taking the beating because he thought he deserved it. But he really didn't. And I knew he hadn't orchestrated this or actually committed the act. He was just a pawn in it, and he _wasn't_ responsible.

The grin that had spread on my face only a moment ago felt evil and appallingly wicked. It was wiped off and I started to finally cry. I sobbed and sobbed and couldn't stop, someone made me walk into a room but the tears filled my eyes so I couldn't see. I didn't hear a single word spoken to me; I barely felt the arms that held me.

This is what it felt like for Harry. This is what he went through, but it couldn't be nearly as dreadful as this. Nothing could.

I would never, _never_, see me Mother alive again. She wouldn't see me off to Hogwarts this year or the next; she wouldn't be at graduation or my wedding or see and of my children. She wasn't around anymore; she wouldn't be there at all.

She was incomparably gone. And I couldn't stand it.

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Most of the remaining Weasley family had somehow been rounded up without anyone saying a word to them about Mrs. Weasley's death. They entered the tiny wood paneled room in the 'Spiders Web Inn' without any knowledge of why they had been called in.

Everyone was still talking about the days events; they had heard there had been a murder committed in broad daylight but the culprit hadn't been caught. Then they saw Ron sobbing but no matter who spoke to him he wouldn't acknowledge them or stop to speak. He just cried into his hands while Hermione tried her best to console him. I don't think he would notice if she left but I didn't tell her that, I wanted her to think she was doing something to make him feel better. I knew it was an impossible task to make it 'all better' but didn't have the heart to say it.

Ron's sobbing considerably sobered the crowd though; his whole family and the Order members present were on alert about what could cause this sorrow in him. He abruptly stopped though and stared out to the opposite wall without speaking. Everyone but me tried to talk him out of it but he just stared blankly out of his red rimmed eyes and then looked away.

"Harry what's wrong with Ron? What's gotten into him, what's the matter?" Everyone pressed the question on me but I felt oddly out of place with them. Fred and George took to whispering in a corner and Bill and Charlie conversed together against the window as well. They all gave me sympathetic looks that stung to have to take. I didn't deserve them.

I didn't belong here anymore.

They took my silence as sorrow as well and tried to console me but I flinched if anyone touched me and wouldn't say a word. If they knew I had had a hand in killing their Mother they would be slapping me instead of hugging me.

I didn't belong here anymore.

The one person I watched the whole time in that stuffy little room was Malfoy.

He was curled into a ball on the farthest couch from the doorway but wasn't making a sound. At every breath he winced just a little and his nose and eyes were already very puffy. I would be astonished if just his ribs and nose had been cracked in the beating he took. His eyes were blissfully closed however and all the blood cleaned off and stopped with a few whispered spells from Dumbledore. As the Weasley family and Order members filtered in they each to a look at him in turn but I always signaled them away from him before they had time to open their mouths.

He didn't deserve to be berated by them, and after they knew about their Mother he shouldn't be the one to be blamed.

I was responsible. I didn't belong here anymore.

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I didn't know what to do when they took me into the hotel but the pain took over that decision quite quickly. Each breath was painful and my entire face felt bruised. My split lip stung and bled a little as well so I concentrated on the metallic taste of blood instead of my surroundings.

I kept my eyes blissfully closed for quite some time before I was formally addressed and forced to open them.

"Draco? Draco if you can hear me please open your eyes." Dumbledore's was slow, low and soothing so I opened my eyes without a second thought. I wish I hadn't.

The entire Weasley family and some other unknown faces all stared at me and it took every ounce of pride I have to not close my eyes again and pretend to faint. Their eyes were already accusatory and rightly so. Ron was in a state of shock and I was badly beaten up so I suppose they all thought I had corrupted him or hexed him or something. Harry and Ron were the only one's not watching unsurprisingly. Harry was staring down at his shoes with his shaggy black hair completely covering his eyes. Draco watched two tears fall from within however and splatter onto the worn floorboards. Ron was staring at the opposite wall without any look but grief. Hermione held him but stared maliciously at me.

"Not to be a bother Professor-"

"-But shouldn't we wait until Mum comes? I mean if it's important?"

Fred, (or was it George?) finished the sentence that ruined all semblance of normalcy in the room.

Ron turned ever so slowly and stared at them, incredulous and then achingly slowly lowered his head to his hands and started to sob again. Hermione's eyes were leaking now as well, she had been amazing at not crying out on the street. Harry raised his tear stained face and managed a watery smile.

"Dumbledore should you or I?" Dumbledore turned to him and gave him the saddest smile in the world, shaking his head.

"You my dear young man shouldn't have to-"

"Oh, but I do." He said, rising from his seat. "Um, I have no idea how to put this but-"

"Don't even say it."

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It was chaos. Everyone broke down the moment the words were out of Charlie's mouth; they all put two and two together and realized that the murder hadn't been so random after all. It hadn't been a 'somebody', it had been their Mother, their wife.

Everyone was crying or refusing to believe it but mostly they all accepted it inside even though no words were specifically said.

I knew I didn't belong here. I deserved to be yelled at, told to leave and thrown forcefully from the room but nobody turned on me even after Dumbledore told them how it had happened. I just sat on the couch Draco was curled into and watched. I was a bystander in a family tragedy and felt so out of place I wish I were anywhere but here.

"I'm sorry. I'm really truly sorry, I just…"

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I spoke out suddenly but broke off unexpectedly in the middle of my sentence as my strained voice gave out. I looked away desperately and stared at the dark wood wall beside the couch, willing myself not to cry. I could not cry, it was like begging for sympathy. I deserved none and surely wasn't about to ask for any.

This was an apology for being the reason for killing their Mother and I couldn't finish it properly for God's sakes! After a few blinks I turned back towards the room to a most depressing sight.

My Father has an uncanny power in arriving in the most inappropriate moments and this was one of them. He walked into the room of sobbing Weasley's and snorted. He actually turned his nose up at them. I couldn't believe it, I knew first hand how malicious he was but I was amazed to see that he actually had no heart left at all.

"Draco. We are leaving. Now." He was cold and crisp with his movements and words and stared into my eyes with his identical cold grey ones, forcing me to leave with his sheer will. But I wouldn't budge.

Harry caught my eyes again, his deep green ones rimmed with pink bore into mine. He seemed to be the only one with enough wits left to notice the fear in my eyes. I couldn't hide it when all my guards were down. He knew I couldn't go back to Malfoy Manor with my Father but didn't quite know why.

"No. I shouldn't stay here, I'm sorry for intruding but Father, I can't go with you. I won't. Not anymore." His whole face flashed anger for a moment but that resided and was kept in a little bank inside his head, to be used against me later.

"No Malfoy. You really should go. Just leave. Now." Ron looked up at me and I couldn't hold his gaze without collapsing on the floor and begging for forgiveness. I looked up at the ceiling and started to walk away.

"I'll leave here. Father I am not coming with you thou-" for a moment as I began to whisk past my Father in the doorway his hand darted up to grab my wrist or strike me and I flinched just a minute amount. Only he and I knew it, but he still had control over me. I just walked out and knew he was following close behind, knew I was going back home.

I knew what was coming. I deserve it as much as I deserved to be beaten by Ron. I am a weak, pathetic person and deserve it now. I had a chance to break away and blew it with one tiny flinch.

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	3. Scream

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N:** **Blue Lycan**,** brionyjae** & **Avalon Princess**, thank you all!

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Chapter 3 - Scream

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_A chill runs up your spine  
It crawls into your brain  
The freezing touch of fear _

It's driving me insane  
Although you try to fight  
Dragged from the silence where you hide  
'til you... Scream

_- Misfits_

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I felt so awkward at 12 Grimmauld Place but there was no where else to go and be safe so I stayed. If it had been my Mother who died… I don't even want to think about that. But Ron's? Mrs. Weasley? She was so important to all us that this is a shock beyond all comprehension.

Throughout the entire night I don't think anyone slept properly. The older Weasley brothers took care of the younger ones, and so on down the line. Ginny eventually fell asleep in a chair beside the fire around 1 in the morning, but I stayed awake with Ron much longer than that. I really don't think he quite knew that I was even there, but I held onto him just to make sure he was still there. He alternated between bouts of blank staring and sobbing until you thought he surely had no tears left. In the early hours of the morning he drifted into a half sleep as well and between me and Harry we managed to get him on the couch before he completely passed out. No-one wanted to sleep very far from everyone else so we were mostly camping between the front room and formal parlor.

"Harry? How, how are you doing?" Harry had been nearly silent since the scene in the Spiders Web and I was worried. Dumbledore and some men and woman from the Ministry of Magic had arrived and were waiting in the kitchen to speak with him.

He just stared at me for a second or two and walked away towards the kitchens. My heart broke for Harry and especially now. He always believed that somehow it was his responsibility to save everyone around him from all pain, suffering and death. I had to tell him something that this wasn't his fault, not _everything_ that ever happens is his entire fault.

"Harry, you didn't do it you now. We don't blame you, no-one does." He stopped for a second in the shadowy doorway and paused.

"I know you don't blame me. That's the catch." He just continued walking down the stairs to his interrogation and I stood alone in the hallway, stupefied, until Bill came out to get me.

"Hermione? You should really get some sleep…" He smiled wearily but couldn't hold onto it very long. I turned and nodded at him and soon found myself curled into a ball on in an overstuffed black velvet chair, watching the dying embers of the fire and taking quick glances at Ron to check he was still asleep. My mind was churning out possible ways to take in what Harry had said to me, and I still hadn't found a conclusive answer nearly an hour later.

"_I know you don't blame me. That's the catch."_ What did he mean?

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"Hello Professor Dumbledore." I could barely choke out the words, I had to hide my eyes from him. I felt so damned ashamed but it was like no-one would blame me out in the open.

"Hello Harry. We have a few questions for you that we need answered tonight. After that, I can perhaps make you a dreamless sleep potion? If you wish." The old man forever was trying to take care of me, protect me, but sometimes I just wish he was straight with me.

"Yes, that would be fine. Just start with whatever you want and I'll answer." I sat at the furthest end of the table away from them. There was a pinched looking woman and two men whom I had never seen before, both holding a single sheet of paper and a quill. Dumbledore smiled at me and began.

"Harry, let's begin at the beginning and end at the end. We have heard that you had a vision today, a premonition?" I was so relieved that he wasn't going to make me bring it up and then look like an attention seeking prat. So I began.

"Yes, as soon as Ron came to the door this morning…" I told them everything that had happened, my throat tight on the part of Mrs. Weasley's death, all the way until I had arrived back at the place. All I could here was the scratching of the Ministry workers' quills on the parchment and my own voice, completely disembodied from my own mind. At the end I just stopped and looked at the first time to Dumbledore. His eyes were sparkling with tears, and the sight of him so sad made my eyes water as well.

_Traitors. I got through the entire speech without my eyes watering and one look at him and I'm ready to break down._

"May I leave? Please?" my voice betrayed me now; it was tight and much too high.

"Yes Harry you may. Would you like a-"

"Shhh. Quiet." Never in my life have I ever heard a person shush Dumbledore. I think no-one in the history of his career ever has. But I had a reason. A very, very good reason.

Draco Malfoy was in the room.

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Draco stood in front of me with his arm bared in front of him, clear as day but more ghastly pale than I had ever seen him before. And his eyes. His eyes were the tell tale white of before, of the mysterious businessman.

He stood in the middle of the room and stared blankly ahead towards the wall behind me. I checked backwards for another person but the room was empty, save for myself Dumbledore and the Ministry workers. I even blinked to see if he would just disappear. But he didn't, he just stood there with his bare arm held out, the sleeves rolled up past his elbow.

"Mr. Potter?" the woman at the table whispered but Dumbledore shot her a glare that would silence the most talkative child in the world. I looked back to Draco with my head cocked to the side, just analyzing and concentrating in a comfortable silence.

His face contorted for a moment and deep red welts appeared on his arm, like someone had released him from their too tight grip. They were deep scarlet; they bled in fat droplets onto the stone floors below.

I could here them splat. I could see them fall. This was too real, this couldn't be fake. I had to know.

I walked slowly forward, careful to watch if this ghostlike Draco would respond to me at all. I bent over to touch the blood, but nothing came up. I rubbed my fingers against the cold floors as hard as I could against the tiny puddles but no liquid could be felt. I looked up and jumped, Draco's blank white eyes staring into mine with a concentrated look and then determinately back ahead.

And then, he started to scream.

I jumped back and smashed my back against the hard wooden table leg but I didn't feel any pain. The woman behind me gasped but I couldn't peel my eyes away.

Draco's mouth was wide, his face contorted in agony, his body pulled into a tight ball on the ground. I knew this feeling. His fingers contorted into positions they shouldn't have, more blood poured from his arm. I knew what I was watching. This was the Cruciatus curse at its awful worst.

It stopped as abruptly as it had started; I swallowed by a wave of nausea as he rose up painfully in front of me, now covered in his own deep crimson blood, too dark to be real, too much for this to be a reality.

He nodded at someone in front of him, shaking head to toe with the aftereffects of the curse, and started to walk away. He continued out the doorway and into the darkened archway. Rustling was heard behind me, I knew that my interrogators were following me.

Draco seemed to be pleading with an invisible someone now, while walking along. He wasn't crying or begging, Draco would never do either, but he seemed to be pleading for something. He walked down and into the basement, and I obediently followed him. Dumbledore and the workers behind me didn't though; I didn't know why. Or care, really.

Eventually, Draco just stared resolutely ahead until he ended up at a door in the furthest corner of the basement, just the light from a few flickering candles lighting our path. He opened it and stood in the middle of the room.

Then the screaming continued.

I covered my ears instinctively even though there was no sound and slid down the doorframe but continued to watch. It was disgusting. It was cruel. It was terrible. Eventually it stopped but this time he remained shaking on the floor, a pool of black looking blood all around him and spreading quickly. He continued to be beaten; it looked like he was suffering from mere kicks and punches now. The faint light of the basement made all the blood appear a black colour; like thin tar. One half of me was so desensitized that it didn't affect me; the other half was ready to vomit in disgust. The pool of blood continued out, seeping into all the corners of the room and eventually towards me. I didn't move, I knew it wasn't real.

This was.

The very corner of the spreading pool touched my sock and absorbed, my big toe covered in the deep red liquid. I screamed without thinking and then covered my mouth as Draco looked up and stared blankly at me. And then I fled, pounding each step as I ran up and out of them and collapsing into a ball in front of Dumbledore's feet, trembling. The entire household was there, watching me but I couldn't stop. I cried but covered my mouth to stop from screaming again. I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop.

_When it isn't real it can't hurt you. That wasn't real, it can't get you. You're safe here. But that was real. The blood, the pain… that was real. What's real can hurt you. It can hurt you._

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We all just stood there and watched Harry sob, nobody knew what to do. We had all awoken to his piercing scream from our half-hearted slumbers and by the time we had come out to see what was going on, here he was. A crumpled shell of himself sobbing on the floor.

I walked over and sat beside him, and so did Hermione. Neither of us knew what to do, we were just there if he needed us. We always were. Eventually he stopped on his own and then wiped his eyes. He stood up and wiped his face, a pallid white colour; he was shivering as though he had seen a ghost.

It occurred to me that he just might have.

"Professor Dumbledore, why couldn't you get down the stairs? Why didn't you follow?" his voice was barely a whisper, he seemed very perturbed.

"It seems we weren't able to, some sort of spell wouldn't allow it. We weren't supposed to be there, I suppose." Harry nodded, taking no time before speaking again.

"We need to go to Malfoy Manor. Now." Dumbledore only nodded once, not asking for an explanation. The Ministry workers standing behind him looked scared of Harry, but they listened to Dumbledore's orders.

"Smith, Jones. You will be so gracious as to accompany us to Malfoy Manor, so that we have some Ministry witnesses if anything goes foul. Harry," his tone softened and Harry snapped back to our reality, turning his attention to him. "Will we need any reinforcements?"

"No. All the damage has probably already been done. I think it's already happened this time. I hope. Seeing that again wouldn't be…" He was whispering, he shivered and closed his eyes tight, frightened of whatever memory plagued him.

"Do you want us to come Harry?" My voice was hoarse and rough from crying, my mouth formed the question without any thought needed. Hermione and I both would follow Harry to the end of the world, but he violently shook his head no.

"You've seen too much for one day. This might make you…" he paused to think, but his eyes just looked dead. "…end up like me." He gave me a weak smile and then turned to Hermione. "Take care of him will you?" She nodded blindly, confused as the rest of us at what was going on.

"How," began the male Ministry worker, the one I think was called Jones, "do you know that this is real? We can't go barging into homes for no reason. We don't even know why we are going!" Everyone one was silent; the only sound was of rustling hair as everyone simultaneously looked from him, to Dumbledore, to Harry. Harry smiled a hollow smile that scared me.

"Do you want to know why we're going. The answer to that is no, trust me. I'd tell you to look downstairs but I don't believe you could see anything even if you could get down there. And if you can, you don't want to. And see my sock?" he pointed to his left sock, a smudge of something red and dark on it had streaked the floor when he stood up. Blood.

"That's not mine." He was whispering once more, his eyes watering behind his glasses again. "Now may we leave please? I hate to waste time. I already have."

Dumbledore nodded again but turned one last time to the crowd. "I am… deeply sorry for your loss. I truly am. As soon as this is dealt with I will be back, to help in any way I can." A tear fell down his cheek and he turned with a watery smile towards the kitchens doorway, followed by Harry, Smith and Jones.

I walked away slowly, up the stairs on autopilot towards my room. And then I cried. Really cried again, out of the crowds view. I don't think that there are enough tears in this world for what we've all been through. I cried for my Mother… and then I cried for Harry. Why'd he have to deal with all of this? Why? What justice was there in any of this?

"_You've seen too much for one day. This might make you…end up like me."_ His words echoed in my mind, my heart ached just thinking about it. He had been so thoroughly shaken, so completely hollow and distant that thinking about it made me sob.

_End up like me? What are you anymore Harry? Can you even be human after all you've seen?_

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	4. Pain

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

**A/N: **Thank you to **Blue Lycan**, and **Alexa**. Please review, good or bad!

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Chapter 4 – Pain

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_Victory attained by violence is tantamount to a defeat, for it is momentary._

_- __Mahatma Gandhi_

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My Father stared down at me with as bitter a look he could muster and his trademark Malfoy sneer carefully set into place. I never showed how terrified of him I was when he was around; any weakness around him was truly a death wish.

Hey, maybe dying wasn't so bad at this point in my life. I'd gratefully accept it as long as he wasn't the cause. He was the cause of _everything _in my life, _everything. _He controlled me completely, from the food I ate, the home I lived in, the money I spent, the people I met and associated with… I wasn't actually Draco; I was really a smaller version of Lucious. I said that once to his face and deeply regretted it, so now I had learned to remain tight lipped around my Father. It truly was for the best.

"Now Draco, why would I find my own son associating not only with our enemies and blood traitors, but then demanding to stay with them? Hmm?" he turned on his heel and started to walk the length of the room, turning back at the end and continuing the click of his heels until he reached me. I hadn't spoken, I never did. He answered for me. He always does.

"I suppose it was that you were somehow traumatized by the death of that disgraceful Weasley woman on the street, maybe you felt responsible? Well let me tell you," he was so close to me I wanted to flee and run away, but I couldn't. "She was supposed to die years ago with her brothers so it's a long time coming."

He smiled at the thought, obviously basking in the glory of an amazing kill or two. He was like a prize hunter; only his prey was selectively chosen by his master and happened to be people. He disgusted me beyond all belief. He continued walking away again while talking, sweeping his fingers along the cabinets as he walked.

"Not only did I find you there but you also lost an important…ally, from some retarded display of emotion no doubt." I was enraged, my fists curled tighter until I could feel the tips of my nails digging in. But I wouldn't speak out. I couldn't. "And that in itself would normally be enough reason for punishment. However, tonight happens to be a night of celebration so I will overlook both those transgressions as though they never happened." He waved his hand and turned back to me, smiling again.

I could actually feel the blood draining from my face, I could tell how many shades whiter I had instantly become. I couldn't comprehend this.

_Anything that is a cause of celebration for my Father is a dangerous and evil thing to think about, let alone attend. And he doesn't just forget these kinds of transgressions unless he knows I'm being punished one way or another. This is bad, this is very bad…_

My Father's eyes gleamed; he could feel how scared I was and fed off of it. His eyes grew larger with excitement as he continued his impromptu speech.

"Tonight the highest honor of all will be placed atop your shoulders. You, my son, have been called forth by the Dark Lord himself on this night to be marked as one of us and join the ranks of-"

"No. No, I won't." my own voice stayed calm and slow even though my brain was rushing about at ungodly speeds. My stomach felt like it was twisted, my throat tight, my head was light. I couldn't be marked. I wouldn't, even if I ended up dead.

_I have never, **never,** gone against my Father. He doesn't accept no as an answer to anything. Most people who say no end up…Well if that's where I end up at least I'll have one last stand off before I do it._

"Excuse me?" he whispered. That's the thing with my Father, when he's angry he whispers, never shouts. It never failed to make me shiver when he whispered; I knew exactly how angry he was right now.

"I said no. I won't become a Dea-" I didn't even finish my sentence before he backhanded my face, his rage bubbling up with every word I spoke.

"If that's how you feel about it here in the safety of your own home," he looked crazed now, his normally perfect silver hair flying away from its perfect setting. I clutched the side of my face he had slapped. It stung bitterly and I already knew it would turn an angry red. "I'd like to see how you'll feel about this decision up to the Dark Lord?" That's the last thing I remember before the dungeon, his wand rising and me reaching for mine a moment too late.

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_The floors here are awful. They're disgusting with all this dust and grime, where's a house elf when you need one?_

"Ahh, how nice of you to join us Mr. Malfoy. Up. Now." A cold voice, more icy than even my Father's ordered me up but I found that this job was accomplished for me by some levitating magic. Dozens, maybe hundreds of silent hooded figures enclosed me in a tight circle, only the Dark Lord and myself standing within it.

I didn't need to ask where I was. I didn't need to ask who the person speaking was or why I was there.

I was in the lowest dungeon of Lord Voldermort's fortress. This level was used for one purpose only, and I knew about it well. I was the center of attention of too many Death Eaters to count for one reason and one reason only.

I was to be marked tonight.

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Walking up the paved road towards Malfoy Manor was spectacular, I must admit. The lawns were manicured and covered in a sheen of early morning dew; the sun was just barely starting to rise in the sky and make the land shine with an unearthly glow. I shivered as we stepped up and onto the foreboding steps to Malfoy Manor. I really didn't know why we were here, if my vision or premonition or whatever had actually taken place here. What if Draco answered the door and nothing had happened? What if he didn't and it was already too late?

The man called Jones tapped the knocker loudly twice and stepped back away from me quickly, like he was scared of catching some disease from standing too close to me. I shivered again but not from the cold of the early morning. The shoes and cloak that Dumbledore had transfigured me were nice enough, but my insides were a bitter cold.

_What if Draco really is like that? What if the scene really wasn't real at all, but a metaphor? What if no-one will believe me next time?_

I hated being so unsure of myself when I needed to be strong but I couldn't wipe away the images of Draco on the ground, all that blood and agony. That got through my emotionless mind, which scared something in me so deeply that I was traumatized. I really was, that was too much to handle.

My thoughts scrambled back into place as the door slowly opened on its own. I was temporarily amazed at why a door would magically open and allow any newcomers inside when Dumbledore coughed and nodded towards the ground. A dumpy house elf with wrinkled skin and bloodshot eyes had answered the door.

"Yes masters? Welcomes to Malfoy Manor. What is your business heres?" the house elf barely squeaked this out, in awe and reverence of Dumbledore.

"We are here to speak to one Mr. Draco Malfoy. Could we see him please dear… what is your name?" He gave the elf a small smile and it instantly opened the door just a crack wider to look him directly in the face.

"My name is Mazy but why would the great Dumblydore want to know this?"

"It is important to know the name of the being you are speaking to, of course." Dumbledore smiled at her again, but this time her reaction wasn't happiness but distrust. She spoke hurriedly with the door nearly shut this time.

"You are here to speaks with Master Draco? He is busy right now and can speak to no one." She tried to slam the door shut but not before the Ministry man Jones caught it with his wand, causing it to fly wide open.

"We need to speak to him immediately, this is official Ministry business. Now where is he exactly?" Jones had a very deep voice, very authoritative. The poor house elf was scared out of it's wits but was relieved the duty of dealing with the situation by no-one other than the master of the house.

Lucious Malfoy.

"Hello there. If you are here to speak to my son I am sorry to inform you that he isn't here. I just went looking for him and I am sorry to say that he isn't in the house."

Smith gave me a reproachful glare like I was some terrible schoolboy who had just told an insufferable lie. I felt stupid beyond all belief, felt like I had made the biggest mistake of my life.

_How could I tell them all to come, that it was so damned urgent if he isn't even here! I mean, his Father just… his Father? Wait, this is way too far off to be right. Why do we trust what Lucious Malfoy is telling us? He's a compulsive liar and a damn good one at that. I just know it was real, I can feel it…_

Even if Smith and Jones were ready to call it a day and head on home Dumbledore was not. He stared Lucious dead in the eyes and asked his question again.

"We are here to speak to Draco on some very important Ministry case, and we must see him immediately. May I ask where he is gone off to? This elf only a moment ago said that he was merely busy." Lucious' lip curled into a half sneer, he was enjoying this way too much.

"Well since the elf is normally working it wouldn't know where my son is at all times of the day. I haven't the faintest clue where he is right now actually. He told us this morning about where he was off to; he left sometime this afternoon for friends I think."

Dumbledore continued to stare into Lucious' stormy grey eyes, and then set of on a set off rapid fire questions, each one Lucious answering off hand in seconds.

"Which friend?"

"No clue."

"What time is he back?"

"Didn't ask."

"When exactly did he leave?"

"Not positive about that."

"You said 'us' earlier. May we speak to your wife please?"

Lucious' face seemed to waver for a moment, his face turning a shade paler and his sneer faltering. Dumbledore had caught him off guard about his own lie. But his mask was well put back on place a moment later; he smiled graciously and snapped his fingers.

"I'll go get her at this moment if you wouldn't mind waiting." The moment he snapped his fingers a house elf appeared at his side, groveling obediently at his feet.

"You watch over them…" he turned to walk away and I finally saw where this was going. Before I could call out to stop him it was too late, he was up the stairs and out of reach.

_He's going to tell Narcissa the lie and then we'll never find Draco! I just need an ounce of truth, some lead to go on…_

I scoured the room in front of me, checking for anything that would signal something was off. Nothing was out of place in the entire entrance room, nothing at all. The mahogany doors were polished, the marble floors gleaming, the walls and furniture sparkling with cleanliness. As I passes over the room again, something appeared familiar from the vision earlier but I couldn't quite pin it.

I concentrated on an otherwise blank stretch of wall across from me, a single door and side table adorning it. The more I stared the more desperate I was to pinning why I remembered it. Eventually I became so angry that something in the air changed, my magic wasn't controlled as it should be. The walls seemed to vibrate, some trinkets and pictures began to fall off the walls as the paint chipped off of the ceiling and onto the pristine floor. The house elf seemed ready to faint, no doubt thinking of all the trouble she'd be in when Lucious came back downstairs.

"Mr. Potter, what are you looking at? You need to calm down sir…" Smith tapped my shoulder but I knocked her hand away, and then it hit me.

The lamps flickered off for a second, the candles were blown out by all the energy I was creating and then were magically relit. The door I was so caught up on, the door was _the_ door. In the dark flash I could remember it properly; it was the door in the basement that Draco ended up in.

"Professor, we need to go in there." I pointed at the door at the same moment Lucious and Narcissa were floating back down the stairs and the look of sheer panic on his face was enough to seal the deal for even the skeptical Ministry workers. We watched as he rushed down the last steps to keep himself between us and the door.

"Why would you being going in there without my permission?" He was losing his cool fast; this wasn't the calm and collected Lucious Malfoy we were so used to. He was giving himself away merely by his actions now, we didn't even need him to speak to know that he was guilty.

"We have a lead that is confidential that we must follow through to the fullest. If you would excuse us…" Jones started towards the door, but Lucious sidestepped him to block his path again.

"This is private property and you do not have my permission to go in there." Jones smiled a little and then Smith did too. They knew about something Lucious didn't and it was making him sweat.

Narcissa stood stock still on the stairway, staring blankly at the scene unfolding below with mild interest. She didn't seem too worried to be caught up in all of this commotion, she actually appeared the opposite. I noticed a half full glass of white wine in her hand; she must be too drunk to care.

"Actually Malfoy, you would be fully aware that a number of Dark items were found in your home without just cause and that the Ministry now holds the right to search any and all parts of your home without needing to give a reason. So if you would step aside sir…" Lucious looked ready to burst, his eyes traveled across the group and quickly landed on me.

"You! What are you doing in my home? What?" he screamed, but Jones soon had him tied up and on the floor struggling against his bands as he lunged at me.

"About to ask you the same question. Although I have some more important business to attend to right now." I walked straight past him and towards the door, followed by Smith and Dumbledore only, as Jones was watching Lucious and Narcissa closely.

The door was basically identical to the one in the basement, it creaked open in the same way. This one however went steeply down a set of stairs before turning onto a long hallway of dungeon walls and more doors. I felt more than knew which one to go into, the handle turned easily at my first touch.

I gasped. Everything's worse in real life. Everything.

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I was so scared my mind actually went numb. I was so angry at my Father and so frightened of the Dark Lord that all the emotions just cancelled each other out. I went numb, and was much too thankful for it.

"Arm. Now." Voldemort hissed at me, all the other Death Eaters in the room lifted their arms in unison and pulled back the sleeves, revealing their ugly black marks.

My Father rushed forward and pulled back the sleeves, leaving my arm hanging in mid air. He held me so hard that the marks his fingers made stayed much longer than usual on my pale skin.

"Come forward."

_It would all be so much easier if you did, wouldn't it Malfoy? Just be good now, make the right choice…_

His hissing voice invaded my head, and I felt my feet twitching to step forward. But my own will was much stronger, and I forced myself to push down the feeling.

_No. I don't want this, I don't believe in all this._

_Come now boy, don't be stupid. Step. Forward. Now._

Voldemort was staring at me with his blood red eyes from under his dark hood, using the Imperius to get what he wanted. I had never before in my life been able to fight it off but somehow, in this instant, against probably the most powerful wizard in the world I was able to.

"Need a little persuasion. Lucious?" he only had to whisper before my Father stepped out from the crowd and raised his wand.

"Crucio." The spell hit me hard; my Father must be enraged at me for it to be this bad. I bit down hard on my lip, feeling the blood seep into my mouth. I wouldn't scream. The curse worsened and my resolve failed, my mouth opened and I screamed bloody murder. Sure, it hurt. I just didn't have the necessary feelings to really care.

"You may take him home and deal with him Lucious. You will probably sort him out better than I could. I trust you will." With that he strode away and my Father yelled at me to stand. He grabbed my arm again and we instantly apparated to the Manor. Always my Manor, never my home.

Mother was standing there with a bottle of expensive white wine and a gleaming smile plastered on her face, obviously hoping for a celebration. None such celebration would occur, but she none the less turned away minus the smile and opened the bottle as my Father dragged me towards the dungeons. She calmly poured herself a glass, took a sip and then turned to watch us. She didn't even look angry. She looked disappointed.

I guess it sort of hit me then that this might be my last chance to speak with her. Sure she was an uncaring bitch but she was still my Mother.

"DON'T YOU EVEN CARE? DON'T YOU GIVE A FLYING FUCK WHAT HAPPENS TO ME?" I exploded at her, so angry that every picture in the room fell of the walls, every structure of glass exploded. The shards flew all throughout from the windows, imploding from the outside in. Somewhere in all that rage however I didn't have the feelings to watch them bleed to death from the shards, so all the large pieces missed us and smashed into adjacent walls.

She gave me a shocked look, took a huge gulp of wine and then started to walk away. I wasn't going to beg, she quite obviously didn't care. I watched her stride warily up the stairs, watching her steps and sipping the wine as she carefully walked around shatters of glass, careful not to ruin her pristine pumps. She patted her white blond bun as she walked with her other hand, picking out shards of glass as she went. She stopped and opened her mouth for a second, and I thought maybe she was converted to my side.

"Lucious, get a house elf up here in a moment, won't you? It's disgusting. And another one for my hair as well. As soon as you're done." And then she continued on up, not once looking at me.

I tried with my Father to, but after I while I just stopped and stared ahead. I had never been down here before to be punished, never in the dungeons. Years ago I had regularly heard voices of agony from down in its musty depths, but it had been forbidden to me. I had never been sentenced to this, to this depth of the Manor.

I'd like to forget the rest. After I entered that room, I'd like to forget.

I truly would.

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A/N: I have a new story 'Well I Was Sitting, Waiting, Wishing...' if you'd like to check that one out! As well, please review (good or bad!)

Luv,

mintapotter


	5. Hollow

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

A/N: Thanks to **Alexa **!

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Chapter 5 - Hollow

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_Oh my head won't stop aching  
And I'm sat here, licking my wounds  
I'm shattered  
But it really doesn't matter  
'Cause my rescue is going to be here soon_

_- Coldplay_

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I gasped. Everything's worse in real life. Everything.

The light of the room was too dim to make out details, but the general picture was scarring enough. Draco lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, huddled against the furthest wall. His eyes were wide open and somehow completely unseeing. Their light was unreal in the dim room, as was his pale skin and fair hair. They all gleamed as though they were lit from within, a stark contrast to a pool of blood that gleamed black in the faint light, covering the middle of the room and then leaving a glistening trail up to where he lay. He didn't move or make a sound the entire time we were there; he didn't flinch when I walked over to check him, didn't speak when Dumbledore levitated him out. Only seconds after we left the dungeons did he collapse into a coma of sorts, his light grey eyes rolling back before the blackened lids sealed closed.

_How do you go through the Cruciatus and gods knows how many other curses and hexes and not blank out? How'd he live through that awake, painfully aware of everything? He puts up a damn better fight than I do, and he sure as fuck doesn't deserve it. Not like I do._

Lucius was not in the front hallway when we arrived up the stairs. The other Ministry official had already escorted him off and away, thankfully for Mr. Malfoy. I knew that there were more than a few screws loose in my head by know and the thought of seeing him made me snap.

_So the Cruciatus didn't work on Bella last time? Well it sure as hell will next time I see her around, and I know this because I'll test it a few times prior on Lucius._

Everything was a little bit of a blur after we left the manor. When I arrived back at the Place it took me a full 5 minutes before I realized I hadn't been listening to those around me, and another 5 before I could remember how I'd arrived. I mumbled some apology for worrying them like I had, and then walked as calmly as possible up to my shared bedroom and lay under the covers fully clothed. Something in my mind wasn't right, something wasn't adding up.

_I'm angrier at Lucius for hurting Draco then I was at Bella for killing Sirius? How can that be, how can my feelings be stronger for my enemy than for my godfather? I am a terrible person; I am a terrible, despicable person for choosing one over the other._

I lay awake on my bed and pondered this until Ron came up to join me. He told me it had been an hour since I had arrived back, that I should get some sleep. It was 2 in the morning. I didn't care.

"I'm really sorry Ron, for making you guys worry about me earlier. I'm really sorry; I just wanted you to know that." My throat was choking up already as I spoke the words, and Ron's eyes were watering as well. His bright blue eyes were now constantly rimmed in red, like the tears hadn't stopped falling since he heard the news. He basically hadn't.

"Hermione told me what you said a while ago, about how 'that's the catch'. What do you mean Harry? We don't blame you for…" he trailed of, his throat catching on the words.

"I know you don't blame me, but that doesn't help me not to blame myself. That's how I deal with life Ron, it just is. And I'm sorry." Ron nodded and left the room sniffling but not crying as he would be. He actually collapsed somewhere on the steps just outside the bedroom and I could hear him sobbing for a while before I realized that it wasn't me making the sounds.

So I got up. I went out and held onto him and whispered nonsense to try and make him better until Hermione came and told me to sleep. She said I looked 'haggard and needed some sleep'.

She didn't know the half of it. I listened though because my brain wasn't really functioning independently anymore. I slept on top of the covers even though I was cold, and in my normal clothes even though they were uncomfortable. I took off my glasses though, that was a nightly ritual. That was my once sense of normalcy in this horrendously unnormal night.

_Taking off you're glasses is consolidation now? And since when has torture and emotional breakage not been on the agenda for a normal day in the life of Harry James Potter? I should be up and about, ready to rip apart someone else's innocent life._

I found this terribly funny, giggling at first at my own inner jokes and then laughing violently on the bed. When Ron walked back in with a look of confusion on his face I finally realized that it wasn't funny at all. It was morbid and delusional. _I_ was morbid and delusional. My laughing slowly turned to sobbing, and it was Ron's job to hold me now.

It was my turn to grieve.

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Harry fell asleep somehow through his tears but I held him for a little while, listening to his shaky breaths until they became calm and regular. His eyelashes were sealed shut with tears; his face was streaked with them. I lay him down carefully on his bed and pulled the covers up around him, and then retreated back to my own bed for another night of tormented sleep. I knew Harry had seen something terrible beyond all comparison because when he had gone from hysterical laughing to sobbing he didn't seem to have much left in him. He's seen a lot that guy; he's been through it all.

I eventually fell into my own sleep, throwing back a dreamless night potion from my night table to ensure that this sleep wouldn't be interrupted by nightmares of my Mother.

I didn't like thinking of her at times like this.

Breakfast was served late, but it was silent and without any of the old warmth it used to hold. Dad was trying desperately to keep all of us up in high spirits, but we all knew how much he was suffering under that cover too. Everyone was pretty quiet and nobody ate like they would normally have. Harry and I were the only ones to not eat anything though.

_Mum didn't make this food. She isn't yelling at Fred and George. She hasn't kissed my head or ruffled my hair in… two days? That's a record since I was born. I haven't said her name in two days. These are the worst two days of my life. I can't eat this food because Mum didn't make it. She hasn't cooked in two days…_

I sat in silence and passed the food back and forth as people requested without speaking a word. Hermione squeezed my hand under the table and smiled reassuringly at me every few minutes, like she was checking to see that I was still alive.

"You should be checking on Harry, not me." I whispered to her after a few minutes of this treatment, and it was true. As bad of shape I was in, Harry somehow managed to be worse. He looked like the walking dead, literally. He refused the food more adamantly than me and had spoken not a coherent word since last night. He was sickly pale and his jet black hair only made it look worse, like he was drained of all colour.

_Come on Harry. Snap out of it. You always come through on top of these things; you're always smiling after a little while… Don't tell me this is too much for you. We need you around… _I _need you around. Come back to us._

As many thoughts I sent him with my mind, he didn't respond. He didn't smile or joke and I was starting to believe that he only blinked when he remembered too.

Dumbledore arrived halfway through the breakfast in black robes with no add-ons, frills or embroidery, the soberest clothing I had ever witnessed him in. He gave his deepest condolences and I, for one really did believe him.

"The Ministry of Magic is still conducting a search of both Muggle and Wizard London for any information and we all still hope to catch the culprit but…" he sighed deeply, the lines on his face seemed to have deepened as he continued, "We really can't hope to ever find them. You're Father and I have had a talk about the funeral arrangements and it's set to be in two days time, on Sunday. I can't even put into words how deeply sorry I am to all of you."

We all nodded in silence, nobody speaking or making any movements. My mind was rushing by me though, so many thoughts were flashing in my head.

_So it's official. The funeral is this Sunday. But… we haven't seen her! I never got to say goodbye. What if she doesn't know that I miss her or love her or that I wasn't angry at her for anything? What if I can never tell her?_

"Can we at least say goodbye. Wherever she is, can we go there? Can I?" The sounds of rustling reciprocated around the room, everyone turning to me as I spoke. Dumbledore took off his glasses and wiped them thoughtfully, thinking about this.

"Of course Ron, of course you can. Although I'm not the one to give you any information, I believe you all can tomorrow, on Saturday. If you like though, you do not have to either way." He sighed again and replaced his half moon glasses and turned to leave. "I have one last thing to ask before I leave. Harry, may I have a moment?"

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"Harry, I truly do hate to ask you to do a single thing for me or for anyone else but I have a request from someone else and I promised to deliver it. In quite a delusional state Draco Malfoy was pleading to see you at St. Mungo's, and I was simply asking if you wouldn't mind visiting him? It's your choice though, there is no pressure." Dumbledore looked more tired than I had ever seen him before, but I couldn't feel bad for him when I was about ready to drop dead myself.

_But for Malfoy? _I_ have enough problems, _I_ have to be here for Ron and the Weasley's. But Malfoy must be blaming himself, he must be in nearly as much pain. If he needs me, enemy or not, who am I to decline it? How can I possibly say that he's not worse of then me?_

"Sure. As long as it's now, I won't go tomorrow when they all go to see Mrs. Weasley. I think Ron might need me around." He nodded and gestured me back to the kitchens which was full of the pale, washed out red-haired Weasley family discussing funeral arrangements and the Saturday visit. They looked worse for the wear, but my mind was miles away.

"Harry and I are leaving for St. Mungos for the evening but he should be back before the evening is over." They all nodded wearily and smiled as I left through the fireplace to see Draco.

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**A/N:** Please review (and thanx again to those that do!)


	6. Tingles

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

**A/N: Thank you to: Brionyjae, LustAintLove, Meg Finn & Blue Lycan!**

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Chapter 6 – Tingles

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"He's still under a lot of sedatives and spells so he might be a little out of it when you see him. Just speak clearly and slowly, and do not bring up anything that might upset him. You have," the Healer turned to check a tiny watch strapped to her wrist, "15 minutes maximum. Understood?" I nodded feebly, barely having listened to her for the past 10 minute lecture on my behavior as I went in to see Malfoy.

_Draco. Draco is his name now, not Malfoy. You are going to speak to Draco_.

While Dumbledore had left me a few minutes earlier because of some urgent call for the Order I had some time for thinking and preparing myself for this visit. Somewhere along the winding corridors and elevator rides of St. Mungos my mind had come up with two very separate people.

Malfoy was the unnerving twit of my childhood, the arch enemy whom I hated more than most other people on this earth. Malfoy had tried and nearly succeeded at ruining my life and the lives of those around me more times than I cared to count.

Draco was the young man I had found at Malfoy Manor, helpless. He had done me no wrong and was hurt beyond belief. Draco was innocent until proven guilty. If Draco needed me, I would be there.

_Whatever you tell yourself to keep yourself going._

My own mind was betraying me by now, but as I stepped into the sterile white room even the incessant chatter of my conscious seemed to slow and stop.

Draco lay in a pristine white bed, the crisp pillows and sheets tucked neatly in all around him. Nothing was wrinkled or worn, he appeared to be an untouchable china doll among all the white. His hair and face shone, the crimson blood that had tainted them earlier had been wiped away to reveal the flawlessness that had been hidden underneath. He appeared a corpse however because of the raging purple and red welts on his face and arms, the cuts and scrapes running along them still bright red. The only thing that could have tipped me off to his still being alive was the very minute rising and falling of his chest beneath the sheets.

"Draco? Draco are you awake? It's Harry here." He nodded very slightly and sighed, his hands moving up to rub the tiredness from his eyes and then propping himself up against the pillows. His eyes were still the sparkling bright grey I remembered and there wasn't a sign of helplessness in them. He didn't have to speak for me to know what to do. I knew that me speaking down to him in any way, shape or form was unacceptable so I pulled up a chair from the corner and sat beside the bed, staring intently at the wide array of potions in crystal flasks on the bedside table.

_Now that you're eye to eye you can't even look at him? What's wrong with you Potter, you're losing all you're cool. Look him in the eye; don't continue this staring pointedly away._

But I did anyways.

I recognized a few of the colors from potions I had had to take for injuries at Hogwarts. Numerous were very strong painkillers, a few were dreamless sleep and one was definitely a stress reliever. Before I could ponder why he had needed this entire array of potions he spoke up.

"I'm sorry to drag you all the way here to see me but I needed to get a few things off my shoulders." He spoke after a time; I didn't know how long I had been staring at the flasks and not at him. His voice was a little raspy so I poured him a glass of water without him asking and handed it to him, and then waited for him to finish it before replacing the glass on the table again. It was like an unspoken code between us. When he was lying down, I sat to speak to him. When his voice was raspy, I poured him a glass of water. He wouldn't ask because of pride, and I wouldn't offer for the same reason. We just did.

"Number one is that I'd like to thank you formally for saving my life. I have no idea why you had to be the one to save my life, or how you knew where or when but… thank you. Secondly, I'd like to make it very clear that I am not going to be indebted to you on account of you saving my life. I don't have debts that I can't repay. You name something as repayment and you will receive it." His eyes bored holes through me, I went again to staring at the flasks.

"Well, thank you for the thank you, but I can't accept it. What I did I did because it was humane and the right thing to do, therefore you own me nothing. Secondly, because you owe me nothing, I refuse to accept anything you are about to offer me as thanks. Are we understood?" my own voice sounded too harsh a tone to be using with someone as fragile as Draco, but I couldn't help it.

_So what if I hurt his poor, little feelings a bit? He didn't have many to start with and you can't hurt someone who's already basically broken._

"I need to repay you. Until I do I am sworn to you in a wizard's pact. I will owe you my life, and as I said before I won't be indebted to you. I won't. So name a price." I couldn't believe that this was happening.

Draco Lucious Malfoy was demanding that I name a price for him to pay me. He had thanked me. None of these feeling went through though. I wasn't feeling sorry for him and his condition. I wasn't happy that I had finally one upped a Malfoy. I wasn't even feeling noble for not taking the gift he wanted to give me. I was again in the numb void of no feelings, just operating on auto-pilot and doing what my brain told me to.

"As I said before I won't take anything you want to give me without you wanting to give it to me freely. Not because you owe me, but because you want to." Draco's eyes were burning into me now; they were pressing me to just accept. "I'm really sorry for what happened to you and I hope that you recover quickly. I'm happy that you're Father's finally going away where he belongs. But even if it would make you happier, I won't accept you're gift. I can't. Goodbye Draco." I turned to leave, and I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my head.

_Fine! Let him fume! I won't accept it; I won't let him out that easy. If he has something to give me he's going to give it to me freely._

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"I just need to thank you! That's all this is, my way of thanking you! If you won't accept money than accept something else!"

_Why are you yelling at Harry fucking Potter? What do you really owe him? The kids about to pitch a spaz and emotionally shut down, why mess with his emotions anymore?_

I wasn't one who normally would force people to accept any thanks or gratitude I bestowed on them. Normally people around me just lapped it up and were on their way like the lap dogs they were. But nooo, Prince Harry Potter was too noble and kind to simply accept a thank you. Oh no, he was being selfless and saying that 'anyone would have saved your life because it's humane and kind and blah-blah-fuckitty-blah'!

I seemed to have caught his attention though, because even though he didn't turn around he did stop before he opened the door.

_Very good! Now that you've got him, pull him back in! I won't be in his debt, not for anything!_

"I've been brought up and taught that being in someone else's debt puts you under they're power, and that in turn makes you powerless. I can't live with that, I won't let it happen. So when I say name your price, I mean anything. Money, possessions, places, anything! Anything you want."

He turned slowly around to face me, his head cocked to the side like he was thinking but his eyes were as unblinkingly void as before. The usual sparkling green of them was now dull, the glow that used to emanate all around him seemed to have been sapped out and was by now long gone.

_Someone has got to help this guy. It's not like his friends are in any state to coax him out of this one, and family? Need anyone be reminded that he doesn't have one? If it has to be me to do it, I suppose it'll just have to be my duty. _

He thought for a moment longer before slowly responding. "I won't ask you for anything in return that I want. If you are going to give me something, give me something that you want to give. Something that'd make you happy, even if it does nothing at all for me."

His words were like some overly morbid riddle. He wanted only something that I wanted to give, so that I would get happiness even if he received none at all. Was that not the most selfless thing that I had ever heard?

My mind was racing with things that I wanted to give him.

_A house? No, he had one… money? He had enough of that as well! What about?..._

_Don't go there._

"Come on, there must be something you can give me that'll make you happy. Think outside the box." I started because his deep voice was suddenly back to being close to me. He sat in the chair again, this time running his fingers lovingly over the crystal flasks rather than just staring at them.

_Well you could just give him a little… DON'T THINK THAT! But, he said if it makes you happy… but what if it makes him sadder? That wasn't a part of the riddle though! Maybe, you can just blame it on the drugs for doing it… Just go ahead and think through it later…_

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"Come here a little closer so I can tell you." Draco's voice re-awakened my mind from its murky depths, the thoughts of stealing a little of this and that potion erased from it completely. His voice was weaker now; I suppose all this talking was tiring him out.

I leaned in to him and to the greatest surprise in my life instead of him turning his face away and whispering into my ear he turned mine towards his and kissed me.

No mistake.

Not very many things in my life have caught me off guard. I'm always prepared, always ready to fight, always thinking of the next crazy plan to get myself out of some perilous situation.

But this time all my defenses were down.

This time it wasn't my mind thinking and reacting, it was my body's impulses.

And the only thing in the world my body wanted to do right now was to kiss him back.

At first I was startled, my hands frozen and gripping the metal barrier of his bed tightly. My lips wouldn't respond for a second, I wasn't even thinking anymore. I could feel for a fraction of a second his lips parting and retreating away from mine, and in that instant everything leapt into place.

My hands unfroze from they're death grip in the banister and held his face closer, caressing his face and hair. My lips pulled his back in, my eyes shut and from there everything was perfect.

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For a whole second in an eternity Harry did absolutely nothing. He pulled into me thinking fully that I was going to whisper something into his ear, and the moment I turned my face the other way and kissed him I knew that this was a make or break moment. If he did nothing that was just him letting me get what I wanted without getting anything in return. And in that second where nothing happened I started to pull away. And in that same second he pulled me back in, his hunger for me the first I had seen him express since he had walked through that door.

That was the longest fucking second of my life.

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Draco's lips were the softest things I had ever felt in my life, but they pressed hard against mine. He was in no way giving up the power in this kiss. His breath was warm against my mouth; his tiny hands were cold against my neck. For a moment we pulled apart and I thought that the moment was over, but in reality it was only for the necessity of breathing before the kissing could resume.

Thoughts didn't rush through my brain; emotions were the only thing to puncture through the armor of my mind. Every time I felt him lean in for more, every touch of my face and caress of my skin finally made me _feel_ for the first time in a long time.

I felt needed.

Draco leaned towards me now, his hands tangled in my hair and his lips more pressing than ever. We finally broke apart after who knows how long, his normally pallid face now flushed pink, his lips swollen as well. I couldn't help but smile when I saw him like this.

I felt happy.

Tears pricked my eyes not the first time in the past few days. But these were tears caused by something other than numbness, sorrow and guilt.

These were the first tears of happiness I think I'd shed my entire life.

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"It wasn't a part of the deal that I would enjoy it." Harry's whispering voice broke as he spoke; he was busy wiping tears from his eyes with the heels of his hands.

I couldn't help but laugh at him, even in as awkward a situation as this.

"I wasn't counting on it, trust me." He looked up again, a fresh crop of tears erupting over the edges of his lids. I kissed each one carefully as they ran down his cheeks, and then wiped them away with my thumbs before leaning back into the pillows behind me.

_Trust me! I was NOT counting on it at FUCKING ALL!_

"You… wanted to give me that because that would make you happy?" he was still whispering, apparently in awe at the thought.

"Well, yes actually. I thought 'what the hell; do it now and explain later.' I didn't even think that you'd enjoy it to tell the absolute truth." Harry nodded and sniffed, smiling a little to himself. He looked thousands times better now than he had only a few minutes before. His green eyes were back to sparkling with happy tears, his cheeks were flushed and his full lips were puffy as well. He opened his mouth to speak but a light voice from the other side of the room butted in before he had a chance to speak.

"Times up Mr. Potter. I'll give you a second to wrap up and then Mr. Malfoy needs some more rest." Harry nodded without turning towards the Healer, so she closed to door again to wait outside for him.

"Well, apology accepted Draco. You indeed owe me absolutely nothing. I feel like I owe you." I smiled sheepishly, something that doesn't happen often, let me tell you.

"Don't say that you owe me. Just consider that repayment. And if you visit me again, we'll officially be on completely level ground." Harry raised an eyebrow as if to say 'and how is that possible?'

"Well, that'll be equal because you saving my life can't possibly be on par with that fantastic kiss I just gave you." He blushed. I swear to Merlin he did.

_You just made HARRY POTTER BLUSH! Are all the dreams in this world suddenly being granted?_

"I'll be seeing you Draco. Be back soon as possible." He stood up and leaned over the edge, sharing another back tinglingly great kiss before heading out the door.

_Well. That went better than planned, didn't it?_

I laughed out loud at my own thoughts, undoubtedly the first sign of insanity.

_Or love. Whichever this is, I think I'll keep it._

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**A/N:** Please review, it always makes my day!

mintapotter


	7. Sway

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

**A/N:** Thank you to **Meg Finn**, **brionyjae**, **grateful reader**, **Alexa**, **LustAintLove** and **Blue Lycan**. **xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Chapter 7 - Sway**

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My minutes spent with Draco were like a really fantastic dream, one where everything in real life is forgotten and you can just be happy with the situation. Upon returning to the Place however, was much more of a slap in the face. An awakening of sorts.

Everything was exactly as I had left it, the family still in mourning, the others trying to contain their own grief enough to help each other. The whole lot seemed to be a continuous chaos, nothing seemed normal or right.

_Then again, when has anything been normal or right in the realm of Harry Potter? I just spread gloom everywhere I walk. Might as well stop mingling with everyday people and maybe their lives would be enriched just that much more…_

The occupants of the house gave me a half-hearted 'hullo' when I came back, then went back to staring at the walls, or making funeral arrangements, or sleeping, whatever it was that kept them sane at times like these.

I walked up the stairs carefully, stepping on the edges rather than the middle to avoid any creaking. I walked pretty aimlessly, past the bedroom I shared with Ron, and past every other bedroom I knew of. I finally arrived at an airing cupboard, filled with sheets and pillows left over from the era of Sirius' parents. They were all moth-eaten and smelled musty, but I wasn't in the mood to care.

I carefully shut the door behind me, and curled into a little ball at the bottom of the closet, willing myself in the dark to sleep. I actually spent minutes, maybe hours watching other peoples feet shuffle past my door, and not a single one of them mentioned me being missing. They quite obviously didn't care.

_Maybe if I just curl up and die in this cupboard Draco will forget all about me and our kisses and move on to someone better for him, and the Weasly family can be happy that the assistant in they're Mother's death has gotten what he deserves. Maybe this is better for everyone._

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"Hermione, have you seen Harry around? I couldn't find him yesterday night; I thought he went up to bed early but he wasn't in our room." Ron whispered into my ear during Saturday morning breakfast, something he wasn't doing all too often. I had convinced him to have a cup of tea and a biscuit, but after that he refused everything else offered to him.

_Hmm, that is odd… I know I saw him come back last night, and he headed upstairs…_

"No, I actually haven't since he came back. I assumed that he had gone up to bed, just like you did…" I tapped my spoon against the edge of my half-eaten porridge bowl, thinking of possible places Harry would have gone other than his bedroom.

_He probably just wanted some privacy, just wanted to get away from us all. But then again, in the current emotional state he's in…_

I wouldn't allow myself to think those thoughts, but it seemed that Ron's mind was traveling down the same path because the moment he turned to look at me we both rose and excused ourselves, heading up the stairs two at a time in our now fervent search for Harry.

_How could nobody have looked for him, how could we all have forgotten that he was even here? In the state he's in, I can't even think of how his mind is working…_

Ron instinctively took the right side of the hallways, and I the left. We flung open every door and conducted a quick search of the room before leaving. Ron ended up at the second floor bathroom, and his hesitation to enter told me more than I needed to know.

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As soon as I reached the bathroom, I realized how serious this might turn out to be. If Harry had gone this far, if he had somehow believed that not being around anymore would be the best thing for him…

_Harry never does anything just to benefit for himself. He always feels responsible for everyone around him, if he went this far it would be to make _our_ lives easier… How can he think that way? How could me possibly losing him and my Mum make my life easier?_

Hermione touched my shoulder and somehow produced a wary smile, opening the door slower than the others and flicking on the lights.

The room was spotless, gleaming from a well produced cleaning spell. She turned back to me and we both sighed with audible relief before returning to our search of the house.

_Of course Harry wouldn't do that, he'd never go that far… would he?_

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"Harry? Harry, you awake mate?" Ron's voice seemed to echo in my mind, my half-state of sleepiness and awakening making it so I wasn't quite sure if this was still a dream or real life.

_Well, it's not a dream because my dream included much more Draco and I kissing, and much less Ron and Hermione staring down at me in a…_

"I am in a closet." Ron arched an eyebrow, but Hermione burst out laughing, holding out a hand to help me up and out from it.

"Yes, we seemed to have realized this Harry," she said, dusting off my shoulders as my eyes adjusted to the sudden bright lights, "the question is why? You gave us quite the scare by just running off and sleeping in a closet!" I bit my lip, thinking of possible reasons for me being in a closet. Then I remembered last night, Draco and I, arriving back at the Place…

_You see! I made them worry about me! Even when I try to get away and give them one peaceful night, or morning they end up feeling bad for me! _I_ cause unhappiness, even when I'm not trying to…_

"I'm sorry. Didn't want you to worry." Ron nodded and gestured for me to follow him downstairs, but Hermione's brow was scrunched up in thought.

_She's trying to analyze me, trying to make this all make perfect sense. Maybe one day she'll figure out that nothing about me makes sense. Nothing at all._

We arrived in the dining room as most of the house seemed to finish their meals, ready to get up and clean the mess left behind.

"Why don't you all go and rest, I'll clean up. It'll give me something to do." Everyone finally noticed me enter, and their curious looks were soon overpowered by they're overwhelming need to rest.

"Thanks Harry. This afternoon is sure going to be…" Charlie trailed off, and him and Bill left the room together, already emotional about the subject. Everyone else slowly filtered out of the room, thanking me for cleaning up for them. Ron and Hermione were the last to go, adamantly refusing to leave until I demanded them to.

_Why is this afternoon so…They're going to see Mrs. Weasly's body today. How could I have forgotten? They probably even expect me to be there, like I deserve to in they're eyes… How could I be so insensitive as to hide in a cupboard like a child and worry them like that on a day like this?_

I shook my head to free myself from the dark thoughts invading my mind, willing myself to get to work, piling plates to be washed, packing away the unused food. The sink was bewitched to automatically clean the dishes that were placed into it, so my job was actually quite easy. At the very end, while I was loading the cutlery I noticed a singular knife from the rest, unused and gleaming in the light.

_A knife wouldn't hurt… for protection… or if worse comes to worse…_

I eyed its shiny surface carefully, sliding my fingertips along the sharp edge and gasping as a tiny sliver of blood ran the length of my fingertip. I sucked on the finger without thinking, as well as sliding the knife into my trouser pocket.

_If worse comes to worse…_

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**A/N:** If you spot a mistake just copy it into your review and I'll fix it ASAP. Please review anyway,

mintapotter


	8. Sweetest

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

**Warning:** SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N:** The title and lyrics are from a song of the same name by Maroon 5. Thanks to **CrAzYLoOn**, **brionyjae**, **Meg Finn** and **LustAintLove.**

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**Chapter 8 – Sweetest**

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_And with a tear in my eye_

_Give me the sweetest goodbye_

_That I ever did receive_

…

_Say goodbye and then just fly away_

_You come back_

_I have some things to say_

_- Maroon 5_

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I stowed the knife carefully inside the pocket of my jeans, then transferred it to deep underneath my bed to hopefully keep it hidden from prying eyes.

_I can't bring something like this to see Mrs. Weasley. She would be so disappointed in me, so disappointed…_

As I stepped into the front parlor a few minutes later, it finally registered in my mind exactly what was going on today. _The family is going to say their final goodbye, and they no doubt think that I should be allowed to come with them. I'll come, for them, for Ron. I won't interject at all though, I will stay back and stay out of they're way. I shouldn't be there, I don't belong there._

"You two go and get changed, and meet back in the kitchen by 2, alright?" Charlie was speaking to Ron and me, so we nodded solemnly and trudged up the stairs; black clothing already lay out and ironed on our respective beds. I went into the bathroom to leave Ron alone, seeing as he was so emotional and might want some time alone with his thoughts.

_Or you don't want to have to deal with someone else's problems. Even your best friends._

I shook the thoughts from my mind, changing into the black slacks, white t-shirt and black button up slowly, and procrastinating having to talk or see anybody for as long as possible.

_Mrs. Weasley would want me respectable. She'd want my hair flat._

I washed my ever unruly black mop in the sink, brushing it carefully and trying in vain to get it to sit straight.

_Why can't just one thing go right today? Just one?_

I became more and more irate the harder I tried to calm it. I brushed it back, tried using some of the Frizz Ease stuff Ginny had left inside the mirror cabinet but nothing seemed to work. Eventually I was so frustrated I simply smashed the mirror with my fist, the crash of the shards in the porcelain sink and floor strangely satisfying after so much time spent staring angrily into it. Seconds later I realized that my eyes were watering and my fist pulsating with pain, blood already running in trickles down past my knuckles and onto my fingers. I mumbled a fixing charm off-hand, my need for a wand rendered useless on simple charms and spells like that one.

_Now I can't go like this, now I have to fix this… how?_

I sat on the toilet's top cover and stared fixatedly at my hand, watching the drops of blood splat onto the floor tiles beneath. After a bit there was a faint knocking at the door, Ginny's voice asking if I would be out any time soon.

"Yeah. Sorry for the wait. I'll be right out, just a minute." I whispered a cleaning charm for the floor and my hand, the blood having started to scab on the knuckles rather than trickle out.

_Now I just fucked up everything. 7 years bad luck, visiting the dead body of Mrs. Weasley with bloody knuckles and untidy hair. Simply bloody fantabulous._

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"Straight down this hallway is the waiting area. A Healer will be with you shortly. Help yourself to any of the food and beverages there." We nodded appreciatively, a sea of red-heads and black clothes. The Welcome Witch was in a kindly mood for all of us, giving Dad a squeeze of his hand before turning to the next group of visitors in line.

_Visitors? Isn't everyone in this ward visiting someone… dead?_

Morbid thoughts much worse than those had been running through my head all day, interrupting other less important thoughts such as replying to questions or even listening.

We walked quietly down a private hall, painted a pale blue with pictures of bright green rolling fields and blue oceans adorning the walls. Dad and Dumbledore walked at the front, followed by Charlie and Bill, then Fred and George, Me and Harry, then Hermione and Ginny. This was a time just for the family to visit, then all Mum's friends and other family could say they're last goodbyes at the funeral on Sunday.

_Today's almost my last chance. I better not mess this up. How can I get everything into one little goodbye, in one little day? I'll need a life time of goodbyes for Mum to know everything I want to tell her._

Harry had yet again been silent all day, refusing lunch completely, something even I hadn't been able to accomplish. I wasn't hungry, food wasn't a top priority on my mind but I still ate enough to get by. To _survive._ But Harry, Harry ate literally nothing, drinking only water and tea and sometimes a biscuit.

_If he's going to try and kill himself, starvation isn't exactly a very intriguing option. Suicide by spell is more like it, like Avada Kedavra-ing yourself. How much do you have to hate yourself to do that? Could Harry?_

Normally, thoughts like this would scare me; make me wonder about how he was holding up. Now they were much more commonplace, no longer triggering any deep set feelings about his safety, or sanity.

_Although now his sanity should be in question._ Harry was in fact acting as strangely as I had seen him in quite some time, and his actions couldn't be brushed off as nerves over visiting my Mum.

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They were everywhere.

From the moment we stepped into the long hallway leading to the waiting room, my blood turned cold. The pain in my hand was momentarily forgotten, my uneasiness about the situation and the faint feelings from my lack of eating taking a backseat to the horrors this hallway held.

We proceeded down in it in groups of twos, everyone nearly silent save a whisper of tiny sob. But _they_ were everywhere. All around us. And I was the only one aware that they were even there.

On either side of the hallway stood completely silent and unmoving people, like statues. They all had the tell-tale white eyes that told me that no, they weren't actually real but they're presence was enough to make me wonder about _why_ they were even there.

_But the real version of them is out there somewhere. Dead, or maybe alive._

I could tell that these statuesque people weren't going to jump out at me or maul us, but still I was so scared. There was a man who nodded as we passed with salt-and-pepper hair and a little moustache, and a tan complexioned woman in bright red pants and a matching t-shirt. A little girl with bouncy blonde curls in a perfectly ironed light pink dress outstretched her hand, smiling a little and reaching for mine. I let my hand brush against hers, scared at what would happen if they touched. I slipped away and continued walking, her tiny little fingers barely brushing against the back of my hand and leaving a trail of something on it. It was whispery thin, like spider web fingerprints left behind. I tried to brush them off with my other hand, but the moment I touched them the turned to dust and floated away, disappearing into thin air.

"Harry, you ok? Your eyes are darting all over the place." Ron whispered in my ear, so I stopped scrutinizing each of the figures and gave him my most reassuring smile, pretending that nothing was out of place.

As soon as we entered the waiting room everything changed.

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"Harry? Harry! What's wrong?" Harry was completely out of sorts, backing into a chair and looking wildly around the room before us, even though it was empty of anything to watch. There were a few chairs and two sofas made of tan leather, a wooden coffee table with coffee and tea servers adorning it and a few paintings, but nothing to be scared about.

"Can you see…?" Hermione's voice wavered, and Harry shot her a half-glance and a nod, still staring wildly at the open space before him. He then lifted his hand up, like he was trying to touch something other than open air.

"They're… dying."

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The figures in the hall had been passive, allowing us to walk by without incident. But these versions of the hall-people were hell bent on making me see them, see how they had lived and died.

The man with salt-and-pepper hair and the moustache walked in circles around the room, then suddenly appeared frightened, then fell dead.

_Avada Kedavra._

I backed into a chair as a woman I didn't remember from before came straight up to me, smiled, then produced a knife in which she plunged deep into her own stomach, before disappearing.

_Why do they want me to see this? Why does it always have to be me watching people die?_

"Harry? Harry! What's wrong?" I could barely register Hermione's voice as I spotted the little girl who had brushed my hand walking towards me, her hand still outstretched and her blank gaze fixated straight at me.

"Can you see…" Hermione wasn't the only one staring now, everyone was.

_Let's give them a show then, fuck up an already miserable day more._

I lifted my hand and she smiled, so sweet and innocent.

_If she's in here then she is going to die. Everyone, every person with a blank gaze will die. We all do in the end._

"They're… dying." The girl reached for my hand and grabbed it palm up, then twisted it the other way to expose my scabby knuckles.

Suddenly her sweet smile changed to something hideous, with sharp gleaming teeth instead of the normal ones that were there only moments ago. Her aura seemed to darken, her cute curls becoming loose and ruffled, her ironed dress dotted with stains and burns. She pulled my hand up to her mouth and bit into the wrist, both top and bottom.

_I thought that they weren't really real. I thought that they couldn't hurt me._

Blood poured from the cuts, but instead of seeping into her mouth she stepped back and away, apparently disgusted with however my blood tasted. She spat out a mouthful, wiping her bloody mouth with the back of her hand. Then she turned and screamed bloody murder by the looks of it, although not a sound escaped her lips. And then in a flash she disappeared, into thin air as they all seemed to do.

"HARRY!" Hermione was kneeling in front of me, holding my arm in her hands and muttering spells onto the wounds to close them and stop the rapid bleeding. "Harry what's happening? Why are you hurt?"

Dumbledore whispered another spell that alleviated my pain, and scanned the room like maybe he could spot something that the others couldn't. The woman in the flamboyantly red outfit from the hallway walked right in front of him, apparently unaware that he was right in front of her. I watched without much interest as many others walked around the room, some dying tragically in corners, some acting out their final minutes or seconds of life.

_At least it's all silent. I don't have to listen to them moan and gasp and scream._

"Harry, listen to me! Are we in danger? Are you?" Everyone was staring at me now, I had to answer them.

"No, just the little girl didn't like my blood I suppose but I don't think that the rest of them will hurt us." I shook my head to clear the cobwebs that had grown there, trying to make sense of it all.

_They just can't understand! They can't because I can't! I don't know what these things or people are, I don't know if they are real, or ghosts, or warnings…. I can't tell if they can all effect or touch us or only a few. I don't know if they know we're here or are all oblivious! I don't FUCKING have a clue!_

I gave them the best smile I could muster, which was barely anything. "Don't worry about me, worry about yourselves. This is a hard enough day without worrying about me seeing things or being bitten by invisible people. Just… let me deal with this and you guys try your best at dealing with yourselves."

There was a general agreement, a nod or two of consent. Everyone spread out around the room, sharing couches and sniffles, standing and conversing in low tones, sipping coffee and tea to avoid any conversation. I just sat with Ron in silence, unknowingly rubbing the new formed scabs on my wrist while he stared at the opposite wall.

"This is the Weasley family? I'm so sorry to hear the news, my deepest condolences." A grey haired Healer had walked in beside me without me noticing, and was now addressing the room as a whole. "You have as much time as you need, I will simply escort each of you in and then leave you be. Has anyone been chosen to go in first?" Mr. Weasley raised his hand and she smiled warmly at him, leading him out of another doorway to say his final goodbyes to his wife.

"Harry, want to go in before me? Maybe give me some extra time to… think." Ron was whispering again, but at least he was talking.

"Sure. Do you even want me to go in? Shouldn't this be for the family?" Ron snickered, the closest thing to a laugh he had uttered in days.

"What are you talking about you git? You are family."

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**A/N:** So there you have it! Please review, and many thanks to those who did and continue to...

mintapotter


	9. Wonder

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

**Warning:** SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee. Also some graphic content so if it isn't your cup of tea then move on… (Or try it out; you never know what you might like!)

**A/N: **Thank you to **brionyjae**, **Meg Finn** and **LustAintLove**!

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**Chapter 9 – Wonder**

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Charlie and Bill followed after Mr. Weasly, then Fred and George left together. I wondered about them as they passed me to enter the hallway, wondered about how much it would help to have a twin. To have a brother. To have someone to talk to, someone to help me out in difficult situations.

_Do they know exactly how the other one feels? Can they tell what their other half is thinking? If one could see the things I see, would the other? _

I had taken to ignoring the people still walking around the room, pretending not to notice them. I often flinched a little in my seat, or half-gasped at something but I managed to hide it from everyone.

_Everyone but Dumbledore that is._

Dumbledore seemed to notice everything I did; I could feel his blue eyes on me constantly. He was probably trying to piece together the puzzle I had created for him, trying to understand what I was seeing and why.

_Maybe even he doesn't believe you._

When this thought went through my mind, I shivered from head to toe. What if nobody believed me? What if they thought it was some demented thing I made up for attention, to get peoples pity? What if my mind _was_ making these things up, what if I was causing all these things to happen?

When Fred and George arrived back, I hardly had enough room in my brain to notice. Ron shook my arm and inclined his head towards them. I stood up to leave, giving Ron a few more minutes to think things through, to collect himself.

_Not that a few minutes will do him any good._

"Sir, I asked if you would like some water." I hadn't noticed that I had walked down the entire hallway leading to the room. The lady who had led me down had stopped in front of a new door, and was waiting patiently for my response.

"No, no thank you. I'm fine." She nodded and then turned around to walk back, to wait for me to come out.

I took a deep steadying breath, and opened the door.

I expected it to be different. I thought that maybe she would be hooked up to machines, like the people in comas on daytime television. But she lay simply on a single bed, her longish red hair with streaks of gray curled loosely around her face. She wore a finely made silk scarlet and gold dress. It was the kind of thing that she would have loved, but could never have afforded to wear.

2 grey padded chairs were already lined up beside the bed and I sat down in one slowly, pondering what I was supposed to do. What I was supposed to say?

"What… what do I do?" The words popped out of my mouth suddenly, and after that I just spoke about everything that came to mind.

"What do I do without you around? I mean firstly, I'm sorry. I'm sorry because I am part of the reason you died, therefore I shouldn't be here. I am so sorry about that, but it seems that everyone I care about seems to die. Everyone that I love seems to leave me behind." I sighed, running my fingers through my hair and pulling the chair a little closer to the bed.

"I'll take care of Ron and Ginny though for you. I'll be there for Ron, more than I have lately. And I'll make sure that Ginny's always safe, always doing the right thing. At least I'll try. I promise that I'll try with all the powers I've got." Those were the only promises I could think of, the only things I thought that she would need to know were done.

"I… I'm sorry that I didn't put two and two together when I saw that… man, apparition, thing outside of my house. I feel like somehow if I had put it together I could have saved both you and Draco, but I didn't. And Draco is sorry as well, he's deeply sorry. I need to tell you something else though. About Draco. I don't want any secrets between us, you and me that is. He kissed me, and I really liked it. I really like him. He made me really happy, if you can even begin to understand that. I hope you don't hate him for it. I hope you don't hate me." I sighed and leaned back, clenching my eyes closed. All the things I was saying needed answers, needed her to respond. But she lay on the bed, eyes closed and mouth in a straight line, no expression.

_Now that you've said all that, just pour it all out. If you let the funeral go by and not have told her anything, how will you feel?_

"You were as close as I ever had to having a Mum around. I only have vague memories and pictures of my own Mum, and most of the memories aren't pleasant. You were the only one to baby me and send me Christmas jumpers and things. I really did love them, by the way." I smiled at the memories of my first year at Hogwarts, my surprise and sheer amazement at the packages wrapped for me at the end of my bed.

"I miss my own Mum enough, and I miss you just as much. I caused both of you to die and I wish that I could bring both of you back so much. I wish you could somehow fix some of the messed up parts of my life, fix me. Can you do that, even if you aren't around anymore? Will you haunt me like those… ghosts in the waiting room? Are you one of them, can you make them all go away?" I was drabbling, slipping over my own thoughts and spitting them out as words. I took a deep breath, concentrating on feeling the pain seethe through my hand and up my arm from all the newly healed cuts on it. I clutched the arms of the chair harder, pain clearing my thoughts very quickly.

"I just want to say that I love you. I really do, and I'm sorry for your death. I'll try my best at taking care of Ron and Ginny, in any way I have to, to keep them safe. I promise." I got up, watching her on the bed for a minute before heading out of the room. As soon as I closed the door behind me the lady was at my side, leading me back down the hallway towards the waiting room. I tried walking slowly, avoiding going back into the room. I dreaded the thought of dealing with more of the apparitions, more of the ghosts.

I allowed myself one sigh of relief as I strode back in, not an apparition in sight. I felt as though a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders, like I could breathe deeply for the first time in days.

_I've said all I've needed to say, and everything is almost back to normal. Normal as normal can be that is. Maybe Mrs. Weasly actually made those things go away. Maybe she actually fixed me and my messed up brain._

Ron looked up from his chair as I walked over to him, his eyes worried. He appeared unnaturally pale and high strung, like an addict days fromtheir last fix. He stood to leave, but instead of taking a seat I brushed his arm with my hand. He smiled a tiny bit as he walked by, so I walked with him, knowing that he wasn't able to make it through without someone. Without a word spoken I could understand him, understand what he needed. We didn't even need words at times like these.

_Before, I wished I had a brother. Someone to be there for me, to understand me. Then I wished for the ghosts to go away, wished I didn't have to see them. Maybe today my wishes are coming true. Maybe things are getting better._

If only.

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**A/N: **Please review

mintapotter


	10. Fade

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

**Warning:** SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N:** Thank you to **Meg Finn**, **Alexa**, **LustAintLove**, **Tattooed-On-My-Memory**, **Blue Lycan**, **brionyjae**, and **shorty girly**! (Please notify me of any mistakes in grammar, I take no offense!)

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**Chapter 10 - Fade**

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I let my mind drift as Ron spoke to Mrs. Weasley, his mother. I felt like it was too personal a thing to witness, to hear. I sat beside him and let myself think about everything that was going on, then think about nothing. It was the weirdest experience, to let your mind be blank. To me it was bliss, not to have any worries, any fears about was I was about to face or any anger at the world or myself.

_In truth it's not bliss, it's agony. There's no happiness, no light at the end of the tunnel when you aren't thinking of anything at all. There's just that. Nothing._

Ron shook me out of such a trance, his eyes an angry shade of red, his jaw clenched tight. I walked him out of the room and back down the hallway, not uttering a word about how he felt, if he felt like talking about it. His feelings.

_Truth is that I don't ask because I don't feel like dealing with it right now. I've got enough on my mind._

Ron took a seat next to Charlie, accepting a cup of tea from him and absently sipping it. Hermione went in with Ginny, apparently taking a cue from myself that the youngest siblings of the Weasley family might need a little help getting through all this.

I sat and examined the scabs on my wrist and knuckles, squeezing the tender part of the newest cuts with my opposite hand just to see how much it hurt. I could feel eyes on me, and sure enough Dumbledore was watching this from across the room. I could tell that he wanted to talk to me about what I had seen earlier, the apparitions, but I didn't feel like talking at all, know that I thought of it.

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"I'm going to go for a little walk. Need some fresh air." I mumble and leave, feeling for the first time claustrophobic in the tiny waiting room. I rush down the hallway with the pictures of rolling hills and seaside escapes and burst out into the initial lobby of this floor, nearly gasping for breath with the need to escape everything I just left behind.

My breathing gradually slows and I allow myself time to wander the hallways of the floor I'm on, pausing to read placards and ponder the various portraits hinging on the walls. A few patients walk by me but I don't pay them any mind.

_Everyone in here has come here to die, or they're already dead. Why bother with something that's not even going to be around in a few weeks, months?_

I actually manage to avoid eye contact and conversation with nearly all of them until a child walks by. It's a girl with curly brown hair that reminds me of Hermione, maybe 10 or 11 years old. I walk by her without a word, but then feel terrible at ignoring a dying child, so I turn around to say 'hi' or something of the like.

The little girl isn't a few feet away from me now though, she's waiting right up behind me to turn around. Her eyes are the milky white I've come so quickly to hate and fear, but I don't gasp or scream. She smiles sweetly, and that's when I turn to run, remembering vividly the last little girl who tried this trick on me. Only once I've turned around, she's still there, instantly behind me and staring with those wide, vacant eyes.

I actually blank out. I give up on rational thought or plans, and just shut my eyes to keep her out of my line of vision.

_If I can't see them, they can't do anything to me._

It's like I'm not even here if I don't acknowledge them. Maybe that's the trick to making them go away.

I sink to the floor and keep my eyes obstinately shut tight, waiting for the cool breeze that seems to emanate from her to disappear completely and just leave me be. She doesn't for a little while; I can feel her circling me and staring. Then she touches my hand, the feathery feeling of spider-webs against my skin making me gasp, then disappears right in front of me the moment I open my eyes.

The hallway is far from empty, however. Dumbledore is standing in front of me with a quizzical look on his face, as though he's trying to guess what I'm up to. He extends a hand to help me to my feet, then speaks without a trace of a smile or twinkle in his eye.

"Harry, you and I need to talk."

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**A/N: **Luv ya and as always, REVIEW!

mintapotter


	11. Circus Freak

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

**Warning:** SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N: Selune, newtypeshadow, Lilith-Fey, blulily07, brionyjae, Tattooed-On-My-Memory Kar'Nia, Meg Finn, Alexa82 **&**Blue Lycan!**

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**Chapter 11 – Circus Freak**

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I follow Dumbledore blindly, through hallways and down remote looking corridors, passing people by but never saying a word to any of them. He stops a few times and speaks briefly with people behind wide desks, but I never listen in. I'm pretty sure that whatever he's talking about with them will be said to me soon enough.

He leads me into a nicely lit room with comfy looking red velvet chairs and gleaming wooden tables. I take a seat when he motions me to, then wait in silence as 3 other people enter behind us.

The first two are Healers from St. Mungo's, wearing the lime green robes with the Hospitals crest embroidered boldly on them. They introduce themselves hesitantly to me, shaking hands briefly like they might catch an undesirable disease if our skin touches too long. I immediately dislike them, their hushed conversation with Dumbledore, their doughy faces and candesendant stares.

The third person that enters a minute or so later is someone I very much did not expect to see here. Professor Snape sweeps in his own self-created glory, his smirk firmly in place, his tone perfect as he addresses me as "Mr. Potter."

"Professor Snape…sir." I allow myself a tiny smile at the memory of him enforcing me to always call him sir, a smile that begins only half formed and dies halfway through.

"I believe that we are all now assembled and should get this started as soon as possible." They all take seats across from me, a feeling of interrogation settling uncomfortably over me. "Harry, these Healers and Professor Snape and I are all here to help you. To try and understand exactly what's happened in the past few days, what's still happening now."

I don't nod or respond, anger causing my jaw to lock shut. He continues like he wasn't expecting me to speak anyway.

"I only understand that you saw something that day, something that tipped you off or gave you a clue as to what was coming. You saw something that saved Mr. Malfoys life, only floors above us as we speak." I smile on the inside at this, the thoughts of Draco alive and well above me in this very hospital making the weight in my chest lighten slightly. "Only today you suffered a very real attack from something, something the rest of the room could not even see. And only moments ago in the hallway you appeared terri-"

"Stop." I can't stand the idea of Snape knowing that I was cowering in the hallway, terrified of the sight of a little girl.

"Just…" I sigh deeply, run my hands through my hair and wipe my eyes. "It's hard to explain." None of them are looking at my face, all of them staring intently at my hand instead. The raw cuts of before are now angry red lines instead, only faintly healed. My knuckles are still red and bruising from this morning as well, and now I am grateful for the bite the girl gave me because it gives me a reason for them to be there.

"I can see things. People, to be more exact. I can't tell if they're dead or alive somewhere in the world, if they are dying or are trying to warn me of things that they will do… I just can't tell." Dumbledore sits in his chair silently, pensive at my words. Snape maintains an air of disinterest, while the Healers are practically leaning into the table to hear me better, hanging onto every word.

"The only way I can tell them from real people is their… eyes. They don't have any. Or they do but they're white, misty. And they're perfect, too perfect to be real." My throat closes up, the memory of the little girl changing from the cute version to her hideous counterpart still clinging to my mind. "I don't think that they can normally talk or make any sound, if they can communicate for a purpose or just randomly. Only one has actually touched me to harm me, the little girl that bit my wrist." I wave the hand to make a point, watching with distant amusement as the Healers watch it like slobbering dogs over a piece of bloody meat. I suppose that's what I am to them. I prize to work with, work on. To decipher or treat the delusional, crazy Harry Potter or to find out that he is a true seer with amazing powers. I push these thoughts back and breathe deeply to continue.

"But what do they _do_?" Snape manages to keep a bored tone even when he says this, and my anger overcomes the need to keep all my thoughts private.

"They show me things. The first one showed me what would happen right before Mrs. Weasley died; only he wasn't the killer. The second one was Draco screaming bloody murder without making a sound, and that's nearly exactly what actually happened. The rest just die all over the place. They are Crucioed, knife themselves, and are exterminated by Avada Kedavra. The little girl went from pretty and cute to devilish and took a large bite out of my hand. That's what they do, sir." I say this quickly, satisfaction seeping into my veins with the looks left behind on all of their faces.

"The thing is that I don't know what they are, why they come, what they're capable of or how they come and go. They just disappear and reappear, randomly it seems. If any of you has an answer to this I would really appreciate it because my biggest prerogative is to make it all. Just. Stop." I start where I start, asking for it all to stop. I can tell that this is the last thing that the Healers want. They want to study me, strap me to a table and figure out what's fucked up in my brain this time, to win an award for figuring it out.

"Well," Dumbledore starts, "I have never heard of such a thing, let alone seen it. I need to think on this for a time before I can give you any of my answers Harry. What is it for the rest of you?"

The chubbier of the two Healers goes first. "I believe it to be a transformation on the Seer ability, triggered to see exact people rather than prophecies by some traumatic event." I scoff at this and disguise it as a cough quickly.

A traumatic event. If he only knew… 

"I believe it to be a form of mind reading, telling not the future but people's thoughts before or after they do things or commit acts." Both of their hypothesis seem bogus to me, but of equal value. I'm now only waiting on Snape's word, his take on this entire situation.

"I believe," he lips his lips and thinks about his words, forming them painfully slowly, "That these are a figment of a broken imagination." The Healers raise eyebrows and Dumbledore questions him to explain, but my blood is already boiling at his allegation.

_"Look at this!"_ I want to scream at his face. _"Is this a figment of my 'broken imagination'?"_ I curtail my rage, waiting for him to explain and leave before I unleash it on anything. 

"It seems quite simple actually. His mind is willing things to happen and creating images of these hopes as an illusion rather than a memory or a bad dream. Then they really do happen out of sheer willpower and magic, not because of destiny."

"What about these? Am I imagining these?" I wave my wrist up in the air again, barely managing not to yell in his face, but my voice does nothing to mask my anger towards him.

"You did not actually create them, but I believe that you did self-inflict them without knowing it. Through a mixture of intense magical power and sheer willpower and want, you made what you imagined real." I shake my head at him, incredulous that he'd even bring this up as an option. "Think of all the times you really wanted something Potter, even before you knew about magic. Could you will them to happen without an explanation?"

At first I want to blurt out 'No', but then all the memories of that exact scenario scream out at me. When my hair was shorn off and it grew back overnight, when I needed to get away from Dudley's gang and somehow landed on the school rooftop…

"But…" my voice is small now, cracking, "but I didn't want these things to happen. I didn't want Mrs. Weasley to die, I didn't want Draco to get hurt, and I didn't want to be hurt…"even as I say the words I know that they're not true.

I loved Mrs. Weasley dearly, but I wasn't particularly looking out for her safety. When you are around me, that is like having a death wish. Yes, I used to have a deep hatred of Draco but not at the time, so maybe that was a suppressed thought. And to hurt myself? Well, I had gone as far as smashing the mirror and hiding the knife. That was something just waiting to happen…

"Severus, I do not think that that is a realistic approach to answering this scenario and I want to speak with you after. Privately." Dumbledore speaks to him like a Headmaster would speak to an unruly student, clearly angered by his words. "Gentlemen, thank you for coming but your services are no longer needed." The Healers are clearly not ready to leave but thank Dumbledore and myself anyway and show themselves out.

I sit in silence, thinking through every scenario. If even the suppressed thoughts of my mind can cause pain, then even I can't control myself. If I'm the one causing all this than it really is my entire fault, and even with my hero-complex I can't save the people around me…

"Severus, that was completely uncalled for. I firstly refuse to believe it as an option, and secondly am very angry that you would even bring that up as an idea for Harry to dwell on." Snape looks remorseful to Dumbledore, but still has an air of not caring about the entire situation.

"And Harry, I'm sorry that you had to go through all those things again. I simply needed to know what was happening with you and thought it best to get a few more opinions on the matter." I shrug it off, picking at the edges of my nails until they bleed, just to see if they will.

"If you would like me to escort you back to the waiting room…" I'm already shaking my head 'no' and heading out the door, running away through the corridors and not stopping until I am on a completely different floor, no idea how I got here or why. I slump into a chair and continue to pick at my nails, sucking the blood off my fingertip every so often to keep it from leaking into my trousers.

Any anger towards anyone is dangerous. If I am angry at Dumbledore for that meeting, or the Healers, or Snape, or Ron… I can't be angry at them. I cannot be angry with anyone but myself. I can hurt myself, as long as I don't hurt them…

"Mr. Potter? Are you here to see Draco? You have half an hour if you'd like." A nice looking Healer stands in front of me, balancing a chart against her hip and twisting a quill between her ink-stained fingertips.

"That would be… great." I twitch my muscles into a smile, feeling like I'm a circus performer putting on a show. She smiles a genuine smile back at me and unlocks his door with a wave of her wand, wandering off to check on the other patients in the ward.

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**A/N: **Please review and as always,

mintapotter


	12. White Roses

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

**Warning:** SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N:** Special thank you's to: **Blue Lycan, brionyjae, Orontelmi, Lilith-Fey, Meg Finn **& **Althea.** You make my world go 'round!

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Chapter 12 – White Roses

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"Draco? Did I wake you up, I'm sorry, I'll just leave if…" Harry bumbles into my room completely unexpectedly, mumbling and turning to leave before I even get the chance to get a word in edgewise.

"Harry, don't be a fool! I've been up all morning, come over here and talk to me." I am more desperate than ever to have someone to talk to, anyone willing to spare a few minutes for me.

_Me, poor, pathetic, weak little Draco who looks of shit and feels worse. How do these bruises take so long to heal, why must I lay here like a ragdoll day and night?_

I smile anyway at Harry, him somehow looking a right bit worse off than me. He has an air about him that he is thinking deeply about something far off, none of his attention spared for me.

"You, uh, come here to talk about anything in particular?" my stomach does a double flip, the thoughts of our impromptu kiss only days ago seeping yet again into my mind. It seems that at least once per every few minutes my mind races to that moment, that kiss.

"Uh, I… I don't know. I don't… give me a second…." He shakes his head, running his hands over his face and through his thoroughly mussed up black hair again and again, like he is still trying to wake up from a very bad dream.

"Harry, what's wrong? Why are you here, what happened?" my throat tightens, too many reasons why he appears to be in a living nightmare.

"Do you ever wish that someone would just tell you exactly what was happening, just explain everything straight to you, get it all over with?" he speaks suddenly, his voice soft and slow, each word carefully thought out. "Like someone would just tell you 'you will die in about 3 months, pack your things and get all your affairs in order.' That way everything would be simpler, you could get everything done the way you want it to be. You'd be free if you could just... know." He shakes his head again, biting his bottom lip to keep back any other words.

"I would live much easier if someone would explain what's going on in my mind, when I'll die and maybe even how. I could stop worrying about these… ghosts and I could just live life through without worrying when Voldemort will pop up next. I'd know, and I think I would be ok with that."

"Harry what happened that made you all… like this? Did someone say something to you?" I realize that I am holding his hand, ice cold and rough beneath my own. It's comfortable, friendly and completely natural.

"I just… I just got a few perspectives on what is so wrong with my fucked up brain and I didn't like a single one. They all made me feel stupid or evil or psychotic. All I want is a complete answer, something that makes all this make sense, ties everything together. I want someone to talk to who will just listen to me ramble and make no sense and not give advice when it's not needed." He smiles awkwardly, sniffling back tears. "I really want you I suppose."

"Hey, I get that a lot. As you can see by the state of my room, I'm a very popular person." Even he laughs a little at this dark joke on myself. The room lacks all colour and vibrancy; no flower sent or card written to me. My Mother still has yet to visit with anything, Harry being the only person other than the Healers whoever notice whether or not I am alive during a day.

"When I get hurt half the school sends me cards and things and not a single one of them really cares deeply about me. I get the entire world that only cares on the surface, and you get little old me who cares deeply. I still think you got out of this with a better deal." He whispers, smoothing my bedspread carefully. "I'd give up the entire world pretending to love me if it meant I could be with you Draco." I barely hear his voice because my own heart is pumping so loudly in my ears.

He'd trade all the fame and front covers and adoring fans for me? Me, the bruised boy who tormented him his entire school career. He'd tell other people, he'd lose Ron and Hermione over this? What we have? What is it that we have?

For a few moments afterwards I know exactly what we have. We've got love.

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From the moment I enter Draco's room I feel like I have spent hours preparing, looking forward to this moment. But as soon as I actually see him I am scared that I'll do something, have some feeling that will hurt him.

_I can't be around people I can hurt. I can't be around people who I care about, I might only cause them harm in the end…_

"Draco? Did I wake you up, I'm sorry, I'll just leave if…" I turn to leave but his voice, the one I've been missing for _so_ long speaks up.

"Harry, don't be a fool! I've been up all morning, come over here and talk to me." I walk over and sit, rubbing my face over and over until maybe I will wake up and I won't remember why being here is such a bad idea. "You, uh, come here to talk about anything in particular?"

I mumble around my words, trying to find the right ones to tell him, to explain my mind to him.

"Uh, I… I don't know. I don't… give me a second…."

"Harry, what's wrong? Why are you here, what happened?"

His voice is so pleading, those tones alone making me ache to open up and tell him everything. Then I look up at those eyes, those grey eyes that refused to close through all the torment he went through. They are still rimmed in purple and violets on one side, bruises still fading everywhere. I crack, my mind carefully thinking through my words as my mouth speaks them.

"Do you ever wish that someone would just tell you exactly what was happening, just explain everything straight to you, get it all over with. Like someone would just tell you 'you will die in about 3 months, pack your things and get all your affairs in order.' That way everything would be simpler, you could get everything done the way you want it to be. You'd be free if you could just... know. I would live much easier if someone would explain what's going on in my mind, when I'll die and maybe even how. I could stop worrying about these… ghosts and I could just live life through without worrying when Voldemort will pop up next. I'd know, and I think I would be ok with that." I'm sniffling now, tears pushed back from my eyes but not well hidden.

"Harry what happened that made you all… like this? Did someone say something to you?" Draco's hand is soft and smooth over mine, comforting. His voice is the same, concern real about my problems and me for once.

"I just… I just got a few perspectives on what is so wrong with my fucked up brain and I didn't like a single one. They all made me feel stupid or evil or psychotic. All I want is a complete answer, something that makes all this make sense, ties everything together. I want someone to talk to who will just listen to me ramble and make no sense and not give advice when it's not needed. I really want you I suppose." I decide not to bring up Snape or his exact words, not to explain exactly what I was told. Draco doesn't need to know that, not now. My last words would normally make me blush but this time they are so completely true that I feel no shame in saying them.

"Hey, I get that a lot. As you can see by the state of my room, I'm a very popular person." I laugh a little at his self-mockery, but I am instantly regretting this completely. His room is bare and cold, barren to all touches of love, comfort or general humanity. I think that the first thing I will do as I leave is to transfigure him a hundred white roses and leave them at the doorway to be brought in by the Healers after I leave. I want him surrounded by me all the time, to have something real to remind him of me.

"When I get hurt half the school sends me cards and things and not a single one of them really cares deeply about me. I get the entire world that only cares on the surface, and you get little old me who cares deeply. I still think you got out of this with a better deal. I'd give up the entire world pretending to love me to show them how I feel about you, Draco." My voice is almost a whisper, lost among my thoughts.

_Ron! Hermione! They will hate me and never speak to me again. Gryffindor will never understand, the Professors and Dumbledore… they will all be so much safer if I'm not tied to them, if I have nothing to be angry at them for. I can never hate Draco so he will always be safe with me…_

I barely notice the shift of my body towards the bed, or his face towards mine. It is a gradual kiss, something soft and everlasting, something I don't want to end. His lips are soft as rose petals, his skin smooth and only broken by the ugly bruises that will eventually fade back to beauty. My hands hold his face close, his clutching my shoulders like he'll fall back into nothing if he lets go.

_How can I ever hurt something so perfect, even in my mind? How do I hurt something that I…_

"…love. I love you." I stop for only a second and the words seep out. My lips aren't even two inches from his, our noses almost brushing, our eyes connected from deep grey to vibrant green. His breath only hitches a moment, his stormy eyes widening and then falling back into my gaze.

"I know, love. I already know." He kisses me back, barely brushing his lips against mine. "And I love you too, but you already knew that as well." I smile and continue kissing him, deeper and harder and more desperate as the hours seem to tick by. In reality, it is only minutes but we don't seem to care about time, or anything but each other. I close my eyes and just let it all flow over my head, the scent of roses filling the air.

"What the…" He stops and pulls away, the warmth and softness disappearing in a moment.

I eventually open my eyes and gasp along with him to a room full of white roses, a single red one lying on the bed.

"Courtesy of me, I suppose." I pick up the red rose and hand it to him, he still staring in awe at the crystalline vases filled with the delicate white roses covering the floor, the table, and the extra chair. The light filtering through the streaky windows before made the entire place seem washed out, but now they create mystical rainbows and droplets of fractured lights everywhere. His eyes glow with wonder, his face lit randomly by the shards of light flying across the room.

_Even I sometimes amaze myself…_

"With love." I whisper, kissing the crown of his head and picking a thin path to the door, vaguely aware that the Healer will be back in moments to tell me that my time is up.

He can't even seem to form words, the scarlet rose lying across his limp hands. He opens his mouth to say something but I just smile and close the door quietly, walking out of the fairy tale land and back into the harsh reality of the real one.

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The hallway is darker and dingier than I remember after I leave Draco's room. I shiver and miss the warmth only seconds ago he gave me. There are no bright twinkling lights or tingling feelings, no soft lips and words back in the real world. Out here I think of what is wrong, I remember all the bad I've caused.

I ride the elevator back down the floors until I am back in the lobby by the waiting room. I choose to walk slowly, not wanting to re-enter the heel that is contained behind the innocuous looking doors. I enter them anyway, giving Ron a half smile and shrug before settling back into the chair beside him.

"Have a nice walk?" he asks, the whites of his eyes pink, the vessels pulsing blood red.

_Maybe the white eyes are better because they don't cry, they can't cry like this. They can't feel real sorrow or pain, maybe they are better company for my than anyone out here in the real world._

"Yeah." I shrug even him off, smiling inwardly after he turns away about how eventful that 'walk' had been, how he'll never know of all the events that had just occurred.

_I just found out that I might be creating all the havoc around myself, that I am the cause of all that is wrong around me. I just fell head over heels in love and told someone that I did. I just kissed a boy, once my enemy, now my love._

"Nothing interesting happened or anything."

"OK…" he murmurs, turning away, lost in his own thoughts and million miles away. I bite my tongue, like hiding Draco from everyone around me is a great form of treason. I am angry that I lie about it, that I lie by keeping silent.

_Anger at myself is a good thing. I am NOT angry at Ron or Hermione or Dumbledore or…_

I bite my tongue harder, bite until the taste of flowing pennies fills my mouth. I bite until I don't think anymore; don't debate things or feel anything but pain. I'll learn to bite or cut or smash until I feel nothing for anyone, think naught about anything. I'll learn to hide it, to only let myself be happy with Draco, never angry with him.

_I'll learn to stop feeling at all._

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**A/N:** Please review and to all that do, thank you!

mintapotter


	13. Isn't So

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

**Warning:** SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N: **Thank you to : **brionyjae, LustAintLove, Lilith-Fey, Orontelmi **& **ura-hd**! The next chap will be brand new (not a repost) so spread the word and thanx for being patient.

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**Chapter 13 – Please Say It Isn't So**

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Mr. Weasley makes a feeble plea to me at supper to eat something, anything. Hermione begs with her eyes, everyone seems to worry for me. I bite my tongue again, something that is quickly turning into a destructive habit, and nod at them. I eat a few bites and concentrate on my plate in between them to make the food magically disappear. This way it seems as though I eat more than I have, making them happy and not actually forcing me to do what they want.

Afterwards I head upstairs to try and avoid everyone, to try and wash away the last bits of blood from my knuckles and wrist. The moment before I step into the shower I catch the faintest waft of Draco's smell on my clothing heaped on the floor. I smile, not wanting to wash him from me, as though that will somehow destroy his memory. I overcome the thought and shower anyway, feeling defeated with myself.

Ron is still downstairs with his family, or maybe with Hermione in her room. I don't particularly care where he is as long as he isn't seeking me out for any form of comfort. My plan to distance myself from them all will go so much smoother if he doesn't break me, if he doesn't make me feel for him at all. It's all easier when he's not around.

I change into my pajamas, the bottoms barely staying up. I transfigure a thin strip of rope from a thread on the floor and tie them tighter, not really concerned with how much weight I have lost already.

I turn and face the wall, settling in early.

"Harry? You awake?" Ron opens the door only moments later. I squeeze my eyes shut even though he can't see them, forcing myself to breathe evenly and not let myself turn to see him. By his tone I can tell that he wants to talk, either about me, him or his Mother. None of the subjects is something I want to discuss, so I ignore his plea.

"Harry, I really… nevermind." He whispers and shuts the door, leaving me alone in the dirty light streaming in through the windows. I tug the blankets tighter in my hands, clenching my teeth together to keep from calling him back, from letting a single strained word through my lips. Eventually I give up and relax into the cot, letting myself drift off into a half sleep.

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"Harry? It's morning mate, it's 8. We need to leave by noon, all right? Please come down and eat with us, just for a few minutes." Ron shakes my shoulder to wake me, although I have only been feigning sleep for the past 2 hours. I heard him crying, coming to bed. I could sense when he awoke this morning, when he left to shower and dress. Only now do I show that I am awake, turning over without any fake theatrics.

"Sure." I mumble, stretching before following him out of the room, down the stairs and into the filled kitchen. The table is filled with unsmiling faces, bleached skin and flaming red hair dulled in the poor light. The food is a selection of everything, piled high on platters and plates. I choose a small bowl of oatmeal, pouring a little milk and a tiny bit of brown sugar on to appease Hermione. It scalds my mouth with every bite but it keeps me from having to talk with anyone, with having to interact.

I leave early, going up to the room alone to change into my suit already laid out by the house elf. It is black with a white button up and deep green tie hidden mostly beneath the jacket. My hair is obstinately disobedient, my eyes seeming a little sunken in behind my glasses. I go back down to the dusty front room, sit alone on the edge of a mottled green velvet chair and listen to the muted conversation still going on in the kitchen.

"Hey Harry. We're leaving in an hour or so… is there anything you want to tell us, anything you want to talk about?" Hermione's voice is soft as she comes up behind me and lays a delicate hand on my shoulder. Ron is behind her, the both of them shrouded in black for the occasion. I quickly turn away from them, pulling back the words that rest on the tip of my tongue.

I say nothing, shake my head rather than speak. My throat always gets that itchy feeling when both of them come to talk with me, and I don't trust it not to break if I say anything. Instead of leaving though they stay, just sit in silence. I ache to just g over and hug Ron, hold Hermione's hand rather than push them away but I made the pact with myself and I can't break it so soon, so I sit in silence with them instead, the closest I'll let myself get.

"We're ready to go guys, the car's waiting." Bill comes in with a blast of cold air through the front rooms door. Outside the weather has turned to reflect our moods. Thew sky is a mottled grey, rain sprinkles everywhere but doesn't quite pour. We all fit into two black Ministry cars, the eldest in the first one and all of us in the second. Fred, George, Ginny, Hermione, Ron and me sit in silence for so long that once I let myself think, I nearly speak.

"Where's Percy?" I open my mouth to ask but don't let a sound to come out.

"What Harry?" Hermione turns around, curiosity etched into her face. "What is it?"

"Nothing." I mumble, turning away from her to watch the muddy puddles of water collecting alongside the road.

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I manage to tune out what everyone says for hours, sitting quietly and obediently. The funeral is huge, Weasley family members from around the world turning up, friends and even acquaintances sprinkling the crowds as well. We all sit beneath a large floating canopy a mass of hundreds of people shrouded in black, like they are all dead and not the person lying in the coffin at the front. We as a whole are quiet, only a rustle of fabric or the tiny cry of a baby interrupting the droning of the people speaking at the front.

That and the constant snapping and clicking of the media circus just outside the cemetery. They are almost all there for me, to snap a single picture of the famous Harry Potter in grief, crying or fainting, anything to warrant the front page. They are also here because this being called the first death in the new war against Voldemort, the first real murder in a string of many more to come. I am embarrassed beyond words to even be here, like a murderer coming to the funeral of his victim and then bringing half the photographers in London with him. After hours of speeches and many people shaking my hand and offering condolences I am free, to walk away from the cameras and the nameless people to the muddy trails that snakes through the old graves. Many people are taking walks, some try and talk to me as I walk by but I continue to trudge along the paths until I reach a huge oak, hundreds of years old.

I stop and lean against its back edge, the rumble of people far behind me now. I close my eyelids and let the water from the leaves drip onto my face, the rain picking up now into fat droplets rather than a faint dribble. I open my eyes to a blurred vision, a person. My shoulders sag, ready for what is to come.

Where else to see these blind eyed figures that are dead or dying than in a cemetery? Why did I not think of this before?

But I notice that as this apparition approaches me it is not the unearthly perfection of all the others but the kind of perfection only a living person could ever achieve. It is my own Draco, my blonde, grey-eyed companion soaking wet and walking slowly towards me.

"Draco? What… what are you doing here?" he smiles as he faces me, pushing his sopping wet hair from his eyes.

"I felt a need to come and, I don't know, pay respects or something… it was my fault so I… you know…" he shrugs, facing the direction of the black mass swirling under the canopy. I wish that I could convince him to just come back there with me, to join all the people like he deserves to but understand that any attempts I make will be futile.

"It's not your fault, you know that." I take his hand in mine, confident that no one is watching and that if they are it doesn't matter anymore. It is colder than ice so I knead the fingers between mine, trying to rub life back into them.

"Someone might see us." He pulls his hand away, crossing his arms across his chest to keep me from grabbing his hand back.

"I don't care Draco, I really don't anymore. What do I have to lose?" I turn and stare him in the eyes, see the confusion held there.

"Everything. You've got friends that care and family that has taken you in. You've got the Gryffindors at your back, you've got Dumbledore. You have a lot to lose for us Harry, more than you think. " He turns away from me again, rubbing the mud from the bottom of his shoes onto the dewy grass.

"What if I don't want them anymore, what if I wanted to cut myself off from all that?" I try and take his hand back but he shakes his head at me, water droplets spraying from the strands.

"No Harry, don't give up what you've got for me. Don't use me as an excuse to stop dealing with other people, all right! You've got it all, so don't throw it away like you don't need it. You don't know what it's like to have no one so don't even fucking pretend that you want it." He turns away from me again, making me feel more alone than ever before.

I slide down the length of the tree, the tightening in my throat and the burning of my eyes taking over, the hot tears spilling down my cheeks and mingling with the cool rain already there.

"God Harry, don't do that." He kneels beside me, holding me close to him in an effort to make me stop crying, but I can't. "Just… keep the friends you've got, keep the family. Don't fuck up the life you have over me, ok? I don't have anything to lose, and you have so much. I love you and I don't want to see you throw it away for me." I hiccough and wipe my eyes, stopping the tears before they even really started.

"We will one day, we'll tell the world. Not now though, when we both need a little support from the world, ok? Let's wait until we've got settled, until we have out crap together and can actually deal with all the shit people will give us. Just wait." I sit there beside him for a while, his arm draped over my shoulder until we can hear the crunch of gravel at the bottom of the hill.

"Time for me to get back to the hospital." He kisses my cheek for a fleeting second and then is gone, whipping around the tree and out of sight in seconds. I stand up; now drenched from the fat droplets falling from the tree leaves above.

"Harry what are you doing up here?" It's Oliver Wood from who knows when, one of the last people I expected to see here. He's shielding his eyes from the rain, nodding at me to join him on the way back to the funeral.

"The question is what are you doing here?" I start to walk back with him, neither of us bothering to transfigure an umbrella to cover us from the rain.

"My parents were good friends of the Weasley's from way back when so we all came up. I'm really sorry for the loss, just if you could pass the condolences on for me to Mr. Weasley." I nod, staring at the muddy trail rather than at him or the people I am about to rejoin.

"Just tell him that I'm sorry I couldn't make it for this all, ok?" I continue walking, wondering at his questions.

"What do you mean 'couldn't make it'? You're here now aren't you?" he shrugs, still walking purposefully alongside me.

"Yah, but I can't stay. And tell my parents that I'm sorry that I had to leave and that I wish I could stay. Ok? Thanks" We've met the first wall of people under the canopy; the patter of rain hitting it muted with the sound of the murmuring crowd.

"Sure." I mutter in his direction before departing for the front of the procession, looking for Mr. Weasley. I spot him and his red hair with most of the family within a minute, talking with a tall man with dark brown hair.

"Hullo Mr. Weasley." I keep my voice low and he nods curtly at me, the man with him stopping speaking for a second.

"Hullo Harry. Where did you run off to?" He looks at my drenched hair and robes with the faintest hint of a smile on his face, even if it doesn't quite make it.

"I went for a walk and I was just told to pass on condolences from Oliver Wood." The effect was instantaneous. Mr. Weasley's face instantly dropped, the look scared and gaunt. The man and woman near him gasped, the woman rounding on me within a second.

"Is this some sort of sick joke to you?" she hissed, her eyes angry and watering at the same time.

"No… what did I say? He just told me to say sorry that he couldn't come and when I asked him what he meant he just said to tell Mr. Weasley sorry for his loss and to say goodbye to his parents, to tell them that he was sorry that he couldn't stay. That's all he said, that's all. Are you his parents?" The woman backed away from me, he hand covering her mouth.

"I can't believe you." The man said, his look disgusted at me. He held the woman to him, who had by now collapsed into tears I didn't understand. "Yes we are his parents and I… can't believe you Mr. Potter."

I look at Mr. Weasley and Ron and Hermione, pleading with my eyes for an explanation. They all stared at me rather than explain this all, looking on like I truly had transformed into some raving lunatic.

"What did I say? I'm sorry if I said anything to offend but…" The man cut me off abruptly.

"Oliver died last week Harry, everyone knows that! He was hit in the head with a stray bludger at the final game. I can't believe…" he shook his head and walked away with his sobbing wife.

My mouth went dry, my stomach churned and I thought I would either faint or die right there on the spot. No sound reached my ears, not one of the confused or disgusted looks registered in my mind. I turned towards Mr. Weasley now, his face drained of all colour, white as a sheet.

"No, I just saw him and talked to him and… no this can't be happening…" he just shook his head at me, not believing. "Please say it isn't so, it isn't true…" I turn to Ron but he is staring at the ground, not meeting my eyes.

"But I…and he was talking and…" I stopped my own words as the thoughts finally connected in my head.

_He covered his eyes. I never saw them. He didn't let me know that he was dead_. _He didn't want me to know._

"Harry, will you come with me please." Dumbledore gently pulled me towards a small room shrouded with cloth before I collapsed, hidden from view of the gaping onlookers and snapping cameras. I cried and shook for hours I'm sure, but no one but he could see or hear me.

Well, no one but one, selective person.

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**A/N:** Wow. I creeped myself out. Spooky.

Anyway, please review, as always and NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE BRAND NEW! No more re-submitted chaps!

mintapotter


	14. Gone

**A/N:**The next chapter will be up within a day! I swear! Thanx for the patience: **MimiTaylor brionyjae darkxaz LustAintLove Alexa82 **!

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Chapter 14 - Gone

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"Mr. Malfoy, all up and at em today are we! It's nice to see you awake this early, good morning to you!" The morning food rounds Healer was unbearably wired by the time she arrived at my room everyday but I was always nice to her. Mostly because she was the kindest person to me all day, and for that I felt like I owed her a lot.

"Good morning to you to Claire. Got any good coffee today? A new paper perhaps?" She smiled wide at this second question, levitating me a tray filled with various disgusting hospital food mixtures, hot coffee and a brand new paper from this morning.

"Kept it from everyone else for you today Mr. Malfoy, thought you might like a copy with all the pages still intact." It was true that every morning by the time I found a decent copy of the 'Daily Prophet' some other loon on my floor would have already ripped out half the pages and eaten them or have drawn on most of the important words and letters. Like all the vowels.

"Thanks Claire, I owe you." She smiled and nodded, exiting the room quickly and leaving me alone. Again.

I added a quick teaspoon of sugar and a dip of milk to the coffee, choosing a single plain muffin and jam as the most edible bits on the tray and ate them quickly. Then, careful to brush the crumbs away from the bedspread I opened the paper.

And promptly kicked the tray over in disbelief, showering my legs in scalding hot coffee.

"FUCK!" I nearly shouted aloud as I jumped out of bed and thought the better of it, shouting at the volume of a whisper instead. The paper had a spreading brown stain on it, but the picture still rang true, along with the headline.

"Harry Potter Breaks Down; Can He Be Trusted Any Longer?"

"Oh, Harry…" I sink to the floor and ignore the burning of my leg to scan the story, only the name at the very bottom of the page catching my eye.

"No. Fucking. Way."

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"Rita Skeeter, I am going to kill that women and make her suffer if it's the last thing I do!" Hermione was stampeding through the dining room, taking only a glance at the morning paper before exploding all over again.

"How could she that evil, twisted, conniving little women! I will bring her down for once and for all, mark my words!" I sat down and tried my best to tune her out while reading the story, happy for once that Harry was sleeping soundly more than a floor above and couldn't here her rant. I had given up on eating altogether, the bad feelings of having to explain this to him turning my stomach over into knots whenever I thought about it. Mione had coaxed me into talking however, a small gesture to show her that I was still around and sound of mind.

"Mione, she's evil, we already knew that. You gave her a limit on her non-writing ban and it's up so she went straight back at us. What else did you expect?" She stopped mid stride and gave me a deeply unappreciative look.

"She could have grown a conscience enough to know that if I can bring her down once I'll do it again. The stories on Harry before were bad but this… this is ridiculous!"

I must admit that yes, everyone agreed with Hermione that this was much too far, even for Skeeter. She had sunk to new levels of low to take on this story and give it the spin she did. She took a single shot of Harry crying, right before Dumbledore had him out of sight and weaved every fact she had on him to create some huge hoopla about him having a breakdown.

"Mione, be happy she doesn't know about the visions and stuff. If she had her hands on that…" Everyone shook their heads, understanding the implications of a story that big leaked to the press now.

"She already knows about Sirius and how he died, not even mentioning that he was on our side! She knows that he left yesterday for a while to have a walk, she knows all about his past with the Dursleys! She's putting Harry's life at stake by revealing so much to the world at large and I will make her pay for it…" Hermione finally sat down and began re-reading the article, searching for more facts or fake ones that Skeeter had implied.

After Harry had the run in with Oliver's parents he had basically lost all control on himself, and I couldn't blame him a bit. With everything going on I still didn't fully get how he could sink much lower than I could, but he managed.

He wasn't eating at all, he barely spoke and when he did it was for shit. He didn't seem to cry at all unless he did it when he was alone, and he didn't share any of the pain that he had accumulated, he just let it build up. He had managed to build a wall between himself and me within only a few short weeks and I couldn't seem to bring it down, and now this. An article where he was all out in the open, every detail of the past few years dirtied to make them seem worse and the good facts forgotten with all the rest of it.

He had been given a dreamless sleep draught last night and still wasn't awake, and I was happy to let him stay that way. I wish that they had given me the same potion so I wouldn't have had to deal with all the relatives and old family friends who came by to wish us well and drop off food. We had heaps of it everywhere to prove just how popular Mum had been.

The only time he seemed close to happy was when he was asleep or alone, and I wished that I could let him be those things all the time if that would make him better. But I still needed him; even with as little he needed me.

"I'm going to go and check on him, I'll be upstairs." Charlie gave my full plate a sad look, something I wished I could fix but let me leave anyway. It was like my family no longer needed words to say things; a single look was all it took. I could tell that he and everyone else for that matter wanted me to be better, wanted me to eat and smile every so often. It just felt so wrong though, so out of place that I couldn't do either without gagging at the feeling.

"Harry? Still here?" I whispered even though he couldn't hear me and wouldn't be able to for another hour or so. "I need to tell you something important." No movement from Harry, and I took that as a 'Yes, I'll listen.'.

"I really need you around mate, and it's like you're not here at all. We don't talk, you don't even seem to try. And I'm fucking trying my hardest and I'm not getting anywhere. I need you to give up on trying to blame everything on yourself and I need you to come back to the real world, to come back to me. Just a little at a time, but I need the old Harry back. Eventually." He still didn't move, his breathing perfectly even and his eyes fluttering under the thin lids.

"You're in the paper today Harry and the picture they painted is pretty grim. You've got some hard times ahead and I hope you can cope. I know you can cope, but I need to help you anyway. You don't always have to be so damn strong and do everything alone. You've got us. You've got me." I tried to ignore how desperate I sounded, pleading with his sleeping figure.

"And if you take more time, if you need to be alone and really deal with this all by yourself for a while, then I guess I understand that too. But you need to come back eventually, and by eventually I mean by school. The whole school is a nasty thing to go up against alone Harry, and frankly, you need Mione and me to get by. Not that I'm gloating, just that it's the trio, not the lone rider. And same goes for us. We need you around, to help us out. I need you around. So take your time. Get better. Please come back to us." I stared down at him and realized just how fragile and small he was, he easy he had been broken down. I shook my head and left, feeling as though everything I needed to let out had been done and yet still feeling full to the brim because I hadn't got any feedback, any answers. I need someone to talk to, and it was like there was nobody home.

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"Dumbledore, what's happening to him? What is it this time?" I sat with Hermione at my shoulder and Dumbledore across from us at the old dinging room table. My family was either visiting with old friends or alone somewhere in the house and neither option was something I would enjoy, so here I was. I had pulled Hermione and Dumbledore into the room with no explanation, wanting simple answers from the two greatest minds in the house.

"The truth is, we don't really know." This wasn't the answer I was looking for I waited anyway. "But I do have several very promising theories, if I may share them." Hermione nodded and I sat and waited, so Dumbledore continued. He sat back in the low chair, his long fingers curling together on the tabletop.

"As with many other things in Harry's life, he is connected forever to Voldemort. His scar hurting can tell him his moods; they share thoughts and feelings, his ability to speak Parseltongue… As Harry grows more and more of these similarities show up, and I believe this to be one of them. Of course, I haven't shared this idea with anyone but you two as of now, but others are thinking this as well."

Hermione was twitching to keep from saying something, and was failing at it.

"But… Headmaster… that's terrible. Are these people that Voldemort has killed, is planning on killing, or are they people that he wants Harry to see?" He sat silent for a long moment, stretching time itself as he thought.

"To that, I do not know. I cannot see what Harry sees; none of us truly understands what is going on in his mind. With all he's been through their will always be skeptics that maybe he's made it all up. Maybe it really is all in his mind…" He sighed, the deep lines wrinkling his face. He had never appeared as old as he did now, defeated as he was for trying to find out what was wrong with Harry. "I'd like to think that isn't true but I know that nothing should be left out of the options... He could be a seer as well, but that doesn't run in his family, nor Voldemort's so I don't see that as a very trustworthy option."

He stood and smoothed his robes slowly. "I'm going to go visit with your Father for a moment Ron, and I'm asking you and Hermione for a task." I nodded, Hermione reciprocating the move behind me. "Please be there when he wakes up and tell him what has happened. Show him that you're still there for when he needs you most. It is something I think he is beginning to believe he has lost." He smiled tiredly and left us in silence, dust motes floating in the air as he walked out.

"Let's go Ron, he'll be awake soon. I'll explain the paper, ok, and you can just be there and say what you like." Hermione spoke so softly now, like maybe her voice might brake me if it were too loud. "I know that this is hard but we've all got to be here for each other. You've got to tell me when you need something off your shoulders and we need to show him that he can trust us with that too. Come on."

I was dreading the moment where Harry would wake up and Hermione would explain all that had happened. I expected him to be enraged, to be embarrassed about the funeral, to be sad and sorrowful at everything. But he was far from any of my guesses.

He was detached, silent. He nodded at points that needed nodding, his eyes closed in a moment of realization about the 'Daily Prophet's' sabotage of his life. He didn't want to talk when Mione asked him, he didn't want us to tell him what was going on. He was like a foreigner in Harry's skin, someone I thought I knew and quite obviously had mistaken for someone else.

"We'll let you sleep on it Harry, but we're always around when you need us." He nodded and turned away from us as we left, not a sound of goodbye on his lips.

"Where's Harry gone, Mione?" the words tasted like blood on my lips, the cracking of them echoing how broken and cracked I felt about everything.

"I don't know Ron, I just don't know. We've always had to leave him to do things on his own whenever anything really gets tough, but he's never been so isolated on his own free will. He'll come back eventually. He will. He has to."


	15. Unsane

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

A/N: Thank you to death : **brionyjae, ura-hd **& **LustAintLove. **You stuck through the reposting and got the new chapter! Yay! And BTW, my internet was dead so that's why this is so late.

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**Chapter 15** - Unsane

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I can't keep this up.

My stay in my own bedroom last night was a loss, a complete blur. So, Rita Skeeter was back in her element, ruining people's lives and tarnishing their images. She happened to pick on me because it was easy and it would bring her back to her business with a bang.

"Congratulations Rita." Was all I muttered during 8 straight hours of loneliness.

I wanted to cut myself off from everyone, to stop wondering if the Ron I'd see walk through the doorway next time would be a dead Ron, a gone Ron. I was angry at myself for dwelling on others that I cared for but found nothing else to think of, to see. Every thought was a blur after a while, a meaningless mush of everything I wished I were doing or seeing but was holding myself back from. Everything I wished I could forget but kept dredging up from the recessed of my memories. The longer I pondered the things I could only see the more I came to the conclusion that these things were getting worse.

They had started silent and now they could talk. They used to not touch me but the scars raised on my wrist were a testament to the fact that that rule could be broken.

Everything was a mess and all I wanted was someone close and that was all I wasn't allowed.

And then I saw Draco.

I turned my head only a moment but that trademark blonde hair made my head whip back for a closer look. He was sitting in the trademark hospital clothes everyone was forced into, the crisp white cotton that washed him out and made him shine like an angel at the same time. But this wasn't the heaven on earth I was used to because this was an unnatural glow, an eerie one. Draco was bent over a desk with a green cloak hanging off the edge of it, one that had appeared with him as he was facing away from me and at the wall opposite instead. I knew his eyes would be nothing, bottomless whites. I didn't want to see them but I knew what was coming.

He turned and smiled, at someone that wasn't me and then in an instant he was on the floor, but not himself. He had light brown hair, cropped short and close to tan skin. His dimples were a sure sign of his young age, no older than 10 by any far fetched guess. And his eyes were still vacant and white but his blood seemed all too real. This was a boy I didn't know, a boy that was bleeding from his eyes and nose and mouth yet breathing. He smiled at me; a vacant smile to accompany those eyes and my legs collapsed from fear and led my body into the wall behind me.

I retched, but that did nothing to help.

"I knew I had your attention."

His voice was the kind of faraway you get when you yelled at someone through a park slide, a little echo and a little distant. Removed. It was also as high as mine had been once and held no anger or malice. It was innocent, but I had already been deceived once.

"Why…why were you him? Draco?" I felt as though I had run a mile, my breath ragged. I still felt the adrenaline rush of fear in my body from that second, that instant of believing Draco to be hurt, to be dead.

"I needed your attention, that's all. I've seen you visit him and I thought you might look at me if I was him. He's fine. I'm not." The boy sat cross-legged and a little closer to me, the blood from his mouth dripping down the sides of his face and onto the floor of my bedroom.

"But why do you need my attention?"

Jon grinned wider. "Everyone's trying to get you to look and you're all locked up away from where we can't get to you unless you think of somebody outside here. And you were thinking of Draco."

He not only was visibly dead or dying, he knew I cared for Draco. He caught me looking at Draco and used it to grab my attention. Just when my thoughts had wandered far enough he had transformed and caught my attention. And whatever he was, _they_ were, they were learning.

They were competing to get to me.

"But that's not important. What's important is that you're listening and I have to tell you something. At the hospital there are bad people and you have to-"

"Wait! Who's 'they' exactly? How're you talking to me, where are you from?"

Jon looked even more put out now. "They're just everyone that needs to talk to you and you just block everybody out! Now will you _listen_ to me? Nobody ever listens to me even when I spell it out for them! I'm Jon, by the way. I need your help and I need you to listen. Nobody listens when I talk. They don't understand. Now listen careful."

The boy inclined his finger as though he wanted me to lean in closer but I felt no need to do so. A crack at the doorway made my head snap around so fast that it was in danger of falling off. Ron, a very real and there Ron stood in the doorway, puzzled.

"Harry, time for supper if you want any. Why are you on the floor?"

I looked back to the boy but he and the desk and all that horrible blood was gone. All gone in the blink of an eye, all gone before he had told me what I needed to know.

"I need…I need to go." I grabbed my cloak and wand from beside my bed and rushed past him, hoping to leave without anyone noticing. Without giving anyone time to stop me.

"I'm coming with you Harry." I flinched when I heard Ron's voice behind me, angry that he wouldn't let me hate him, wouldn't hate me back for being so cold for so long. I shook my head but I couldn't force the words 'I don't want you to come.' through my lips because my body and mind and soul were aching for Ron's support.

He would follow me anyway, to the fireplace in the kitchen and leave with me, telling everyone else that 'We're leaving for somewhere and it's really important. And I have no idea why but I'm going with Harry."

"Be back within 2 hours, the Order meeting starts then." Hermione spoke up without a hint of a waver in her voice.

I mumbled 'St. Mungo's' into the flames of the kitchen as Ron was speaking in the hopes that he wouldn't hear me and wouldn't be able to follow.

He followed.

"Harry," he was sounding desperate, rushing to keep up with me within the front lobby of St. Mungo's, "Harry why are we here? Did you see something?"

I wanted so badly to tell him yes, to explain it all and let him in. But that would defeat the purpose of me to stop caring about him, so I was quiet. I walked across the atrium of St. Mungos, remembering the hospitals white clothing and remembering a lime green cloak on the corner of a desk.

"I need to know about a boy. A boy named Jon, maybe 10 years old?" I rushed up to the welcome witch and was simply greeted by a cold stare.

"Are you family?"

"No."

"Then I can't help you."

"But you have to!" I wanted to scream, to yell and make commotion and wave my name around until somebody did something. I wanted something important to fall in my lap for once, I wanted this to work.

"And what exactly do I have to do?" This was dripping with such threat and sarcasm that I could _feel_ rage building.

_Hold. It. In._

"I don't need to see him or do anything about him. I just need _you_ here at the hospital to know how he is. You don't even have to tell me, I just need you to check."

The witch was inspecting, her eyes lingering as everyone's did on my forehead for a second too long. I wouldn't snap at her for that however, I couldn't if I wanted something done.

"I…well I'll check on his condition but I can't reveal anything personal."

She pulled out a long blank piece of parchment, muttered the words "Name Jon, Age 10." To the sheet and pushed it at Harry.

"Sorry, no 10 year old Jon's here right now."

_Keep. In. All. That. Screaming._

I could feel Ron at my back, knew he was wondering if I had lost it. I didn't want to think if I had.

"Around 10. About 10."

The witch gave me the worst sort of glare, and then repeated "Name Jon, Age _approximately _10."

She didn't push the paper under my nose afterwards. She had got something on the paper that appeared and made her eyes widen in undisguised shock.

She stared at it, then stared at me and finally snapped her fingers to summon a Healer.

"Check on this boy." She whispered to the Healer who disapparated a moment later.

"How…how did you know? How did you know that boy?"

_I._ _Am. Stuck._

"I met him once and… wanted to know how he was doing?" I asked this like a question and regretted it instantly, knowing that Ron now knew why I had been on the floor in my room.

Knowing that the Welcome Witch thought me insane.

_It doesn't matter._

"What's wrong with him?"

The witch was biting her lip, her eyes still scanning the before empty sheet of paper in front of her. She was obviously debating whether or not to tell me anything. That was the moment Ron tapped my shoulder, startling me to his appearance.

_Ron's still with you. Ron believes you._

His eyes were questioning, and I knew I had to ignore them. Ignore him. Concentrate on the others around me, the important.

"The boy was in the long term ward," the witch suddenly burst out. "He was healthy but his brain was addled and he couldn't speak correctly. Says that no-one understood a word he said. But perfectly, normally, healthy."

_His brain was addled and he couldn't speak correctly. Says that no-one understood a word he said._

"_Nobody listens when I talk. They don't understand."_

The words are vibrating back and forth through my brain long after the welcome witch says them. Everything is connecting in the exact way I didn't want it to.

And I know that I have to ask.

"Where's the boy? Where's Jon?"

The witch stares back at me with a wide mouth, obviously not ready to lose her job over giving out such important information. She peers past I and Ron, watching a line slowly build up behind us.

She doesn't want me to make a scene.

"Listen, I won't tell anyone how I found out where he is or how I know about him ok? I just need you to point me in the right direction in this hospital and I won't make any fuss over it. Just point me."

She bites her lip until a family of 6 walks in, all with curious antlers sprouting from their foreheads. This is a crisis she desperately wants to extract herself from so she whispers 'Long Term Ward, Pediatrics' to me and then waves us off.

Funny, I know the ins and outs of that ward by heart. I should have guessed and I laugh out loud at my own stupidity as Ron rushes in beside me in a rickety elevator.

"How'd you know where to go by what she said? She didn't even give us the floor number…"

"It's Draco's ward Ron, and I should have known that. Anyone under 17 is kept there if they have to stay for more than a week or so and it's divided into sections. And the boy said he'd seen me visiting Draco and-"

If I could literally stick my own foot in my mouth I would.

"So you saw of vision of some kid here at St. Mungo's then right? And we've got to go and see how he is? But why Harry, what did he say or do or-"

"I can't say Ron, you shouldn't be here. It's not for you or anyone else to know."

Ron stops walking behind me for a second and I think I've finally gone and done it. Broken him down to pieces. But I can hear his steady footsteps behind within a few seconds as he steps out of the elevator. He's like a puppy I want to keep so badly and know I'll ruin if I carry it too close.

I blink out these thoughts and rush into Draco's room just in time to get Ron through the door. Two frazzled looking Healers rush by a second later, both wielding the power to kick me out the moment they see me.

I hear Draco sigh and wish that Ron hadn't followed me here.

"I should have guessed that you'd show up after all this commotion. But I've got to say I wish you'd keep your head down after that awful Skeeter woman's rendition of your life."

I smile inside at Draco but sigh and sit within his small white washed room. Ron moves beside me and pulls up a chair, an air of the uncomfortable surrounding him.

"Do you know what's happening outside Draco?"

He shrugs this off. "Oh no Harry, I am far too busy in here staring at the wall to notice a huge fuss like that outside my door. I couldn't bring myself to look outside or ask someone-"

"Please, save the sarcasm for some other day. Just tell me."

He sighs. "Some kid, I don't know his name was found in the common room in the hall one down from here. It's the long term ward for the pediatrics with their brains addled. The story is that he was completely normal up until his parents were killed by some Death Eaters and then hew started talking in tongues. All he can write anymore is 'MM' and he's the bloody idiot who goes through the daily papers and underlines all the 'm's in it. Drives me mad."

"Draco please, what happened to him, not his life story."

He looks at me with surprise and a little hurt. "Sorry. They found him there with his head all split open and nearly dead, but I think he'll live. Some Healer came rushing past just a few minutes ago but it wasn't on a normal round for them. It was like he was sent."

"That's because I sent him."

Draco stares at me long and hard and I wish I could spill everything I saw without getting Ron any closer to understanding me.

"You saw him didn't you? You knew he was dying or in danger and you came here for him-"

"And that's exactly why you need to get out of here. The only reason you're still in the long term ward is because you have nowhere to go but that's not true. It's not safe here Draco, if this can happen then anything could!"

Draco's staring at me the way Ron and Hermione seem to do more often than not. He's mad at me for lashing out and even he can't see the reason and great need for him to leave. He doesn't understand what happens to people around me when I don't purposefully keep them away from danger.

And then there is my ever silent Ron, a sour and sad look on his face. Draco mutters that it wouldn't work for us all to live together anyway and I know why.

Ron isn't ready, beneath everything else he might say to make me happy, to accept Draco. To him Draco is simply the thing that killed his Mother because Ron won't believe that it really was me. And Draco knows this and wants to keep me happy in my bubble world and doesn't want to mess anything up.

They both are thinking that I'm paranoid and insane and that I'm overreacting. But no-one wants to be the one to break the news to me.

"I need for you to leave here. Now. And it's not because I'm overreacting, it's because this place isn't safe anymore, not because I'm crazy-"

"We never thought you were crazy Harry! You're just overreacting a bit and I don't need to push myself onto another group of people. I can't just move in, it wouldn't work! And if you could just explain what you saw then I'd know what to think of all this. If you could just explain…"

I bite my tongue to keep from crying.

"That's just it. Nothing I ever say or every will say will make anyone change their mind about what I talk about. I can't explain and…"

I can't even finish my train of thought.

"You two just can't bear the idea of having to live together! Because Ron still hates you and you still feel so fucking bad about it," Ron steps up and out of his chair to retort but I'm already up and moving towards the door, "and neither of you will just hear me out about this on my word alone! I can't take you two!"

I smash out of the doorway and rip across to the nearest stairwell, avoiding the elevator. My lungs are burning and my heart is pounding as I descend the stairwell two at a time but I don't really care. The street I burst into is already slick with rain and I slip and fall, smashing my knee and head into the pavement. I can hear a pair of footsteps behind me pounding and I concentrate with all my might on somewhere else where I'll be alone.

Where only one person could possibly find me.

And I feel the pressure, the suction of air from my body and I know that to whoever chased me from St. Mungo's, I'm good as gone.

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**A/N: **Please review! It means the world to me!

Luv, mintapotter


	16. Back Again

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author: **mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

**SLASH!** Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N:** Thank you's are at the end today guys!

Read on...

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**Chapter 16 - Back Again**

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"Do you have any idea-"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I have no fucking clue where he is? I don't know, I don't know! If I did then I would be the first to help, don't you think?"

I am trying, really I am. I am trying and trying and straining not to yell and scream and smash someone's face in around me for their alarming stupidity. Hermione is nagging me for where Harry is and it seems that no matter how many times and ways I say that I don't know, it's like she doesn't believe me.

Ron is beside himself, I watched them persuade him into an empty room across the hall from me, the kid who was smashed in the face's now empty room. I've been wondering vaguely how the kid is, and how Ron can possibly hold up if Harry doesn't show up within an hour or two.

These thoughts are kept vague of course because I am constantly reminded of why I am suddenly important. Everyone has a special interest in me now because I am one of the last people Harry spoke to in the time before he Disapparated himself off to the middle of nowhere.

And no one wants to hear that I don't have the answers or the supreme knowledge to bring Harry back.

"Maybe you'd do a much better good by canvassing the spots he's been lately or would go to hide? Maybe that would be the obviously much more productive answer to all your questions." I haven't had anyone to use my most patented mocking voice on and I can't help but unleash it on Hermione.

She is shooting daggers at me through her eyes and I, for once, have no energy to try and shoot them back. I can't be angry in a time like this, I need productivity, and I need movement and work. I've been confined to my bed and blank room for days with only Harry as my comfort of something new and welcoming. With Harry gone, my chances of redemption and happiness are at an all time low, and that's not something I'm happy with living with.

"Alright. The Ministry is already checking all through the hospital and the actual Ministry just in case. Mad Eye is at the Place, Dumbledore went to check on the Dursley's. Tonks is at the morgue section of the hospital, Lupin went to the cemetery plot and Kingsley went to Godric's Hollow. I think we already have everything of importance covered so I think Ron and me and you are just supposed to stay here unless we think of anywhere else to go."

I suppose I am secretly a little too happy that Ron decided to break down after causing Harry to flee St. Mungo's because it keeps him and his tangible hate for me away and at a safe distance. That's all I can possibly ask from him now anyway.

I did cause his Mother's death, after all.

"Malfoy, do you-"

"Shut the flying fuck up before I get really angry and rip out all your hair, ok?"

Hermione's eyes somehow magnify to the relative size of saucers.

"I was going to ask where the bathroom was. I'll find it myself." She responds meekly, exiting my room just in time for me to sigh and wipe away the newly formed tears in my eyes.

"No time to cry now, Harry's out there somewhere angry and nearly delusional," I reprimand myself before laughing, "a little like you. But he won't go anywhere they'll look because the whole point is to hide from them. Where would he go that they wouldn't think of?"

I slip out from under my bed sheets and smooth them down, a calming motion that gives me something to do every morning and helps me think. A place where maybe I'd know how to get to, but the rest of his friends and surrogate family wouldn't think of…

"Oh." Was the only word I managed before slapping myself upside the head for my own stupidity.

"Obviously."

I sneak a peek beyond my doorway to see a very red eyed Hermione Granger fast approaching and decide that not only did I guess right but that now is the time to go. I close my eyes and visualize everything as it was that day, every smell and sight and then I can feel the pull and suction as the Dissapiration takes over.

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"It took you longer than I thought it would."

"I had your friends breathing down my neck guessing where you went off and disappeared to. And about now they're guessing the same thing about me."

Harry is sitting underneath the same tree as before, his eyes blissfully closed and facing the sky. Tiny raindrops fall on his face but his smile tells me that that's what he wants, something simple and cleansing like that.

"We don't have to go back until you want to but I want you to know that they have someone down by Mrs. Weasley's plot, so we've got to keep an eye on the trail."

"I knew they'd do that." He whispers back, patting the dry patch of dirt beside him and indicating for me to sit.

"I'd hate to spoil the whiteness of my outfit, but I suppose…" I mutter, leaning more on him then the tree trunk as I sit down. Idespise to think of how cold I am and how cold he must be from sitting outside in the rain for so long but I keep my mouth shut.

Sometimes silence really is golden.

"The only way I'm leaving here with you is if you promise to come and live at the Place with me. I won't let you go back to that hospital, too many bad things are going to happen there. I can tell."

"How was I supposed to understand that Harry? How's anyone supposed to understand your reasoning if you won't explain-"

"I saw you ok? I saw you again, the same way I did before when you were hurt. And I don't ever want to see that again and not be where you are, not be able to check that you're alright. I wish I didn't make you and everyone else worry, but I can't help this."

I feel as though I've swallowed a stone, the lump in my throat was so tight.

"You saw… me? Like a vision? But I'm fine, nothing happened."

"That's because it was that little boy in reality, it was him who was trying to get me to see him. He just pretended to be you to get me to look. That's how dementedly fucked up my brain is right now. That's how crazy I am."

"You're not crazy Harry."

He laughs and for the first time opens his crystal clear eyes to me.

"Really? You believe that completely? That I'm not willing this to happen, even subconsciously forcing this to become true? That maybe I've just snapped?"

I scoff at his, but feel him pull away from me as I do so.

"No, you're not crazy and none of that's true. If you couldn't see what was happening in real life than I wouldn't be here to talk to you about it, would I?"

Harry shakes his head at me, staring up into the canopy above rather than face my eyes. I can feel the goosebumps on my arms starting, a chill running through my spine.

"You couldn't have forced that to happen through your brain power Harry, it was to be anyway. I should have expected it, really…" He shakes his head, forcefully blinking away tears I know he doesn't want to shed again.

"You're not the center of the world Harry, despite what you might think. You got this power, or whatever you might think of it as because of something that happened when you were small, something you can't control. I mean, Parseltongue? It's obvious…"

This gets his attention for once.

"You think that this is all Voldemort's doing, all him sending my mind messages about things? I can see what he sees, that sort of thing?'

"Well, yes. I think that's a part of it, even if I don't understand how."

"No, can't be. You weren't being tortured by Voldemort and that boy sure as hell wasn't killed on his orders! It can't be another connection, that's just another step closer to being whatever it is that Voldemort is."

"I was being tortured by a servant of Voldemort, thank you very much. And who the hell else would put out an order to kill a child, in our world? Don't rule anything out yet Harry, you never know."

He shakes his head like he's trying to force the thought of having yet another connection to Voldemort from his mind. I'm shivering from head to toe but somehow his hands feel even more like ice than mine, the skin clammy and cold from the rain.

"I'll come with you from the hospital and to the Place if you'll promise to let me in on what you see. Even if it's terrible and about me, I want to know. I want to help you figure this out Harry, I really do. Just promise to let me in."

Harry nods his answer, hiccoughing from keeping in all his pent up tears. I pull his head in close to my shoulder, being the someone he needs to lean on when he needs it most. He stops crying just when the rain picks up, the shelter of the tree no longer getting us anywhere.

"Ron'll kill himself if you don't show up soon Harry, we've got to go. You've got people counting on you, you know."

"I know, I know and I fucking know. Everyone's counting on me to deal with this and school and death and destruction and save them at the same time. Sometimes you just need a little time off of it all, you know what I mean? Just a second of time to get away from everything?"

I shake my head, wiping the tears from his cheeks with my thumbs. "No actually, I don't really. I do know that we have to go though, back to the Place where it's warm enough to keep you from getting hypothermia."

Harry seems to finally sink back into reality and realizes that I am wearing nothing more than my flimsy hospital whites. He grabs both of my hands firmly and whispers in my ear.

"Don't think of anything. Just hold on for the ride."

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When I open my eyes again I'm aware very quickly that the rain hereis much harder than wherewe came from. The light drizzle under the tree was replaced by a constant onslaught of drops that might as well have skipped soaking through my clothes and have adhered to my skin.

"Where…where is this Place?"

Harry grabbsme firmly by the hand and pulls me through what was now revealed to be a square park in the middle of some blocked in lower class neighborhood. Why on earth this would be the place for the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was beyond me, but he was increasingly tight lipped as we approached two of the houses.

"Close your eyes."

"Why?"

He sighs at me like I'm an annoying three year old, his shoulders dropping in some kind of defeat.

"Because I think it works better that way."

I shut my eyes and stand there in the rain for a good while, nothing happening at all.

"Don't imagine anything. Just repeat after me. 'The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix can be found at 12 Grimmauld Place, London.'"

I open my eyes to speak the words but already a building was popping itself in-between two others directly behind Harry. I could never have imagined that an entire house could be hidden between the two but it had been done, and I was astounded.

"That really wasn't that hard, don't you think that the security should be a little more stringent around here?"

Harry wasn't in the mood for talking apparently. He shakes his head a little and begins walking up the stairs, pausing as he lights the last step.

"You're staying here Draco, alright? And I'll try…try to explain all the things that are going on in my head later, when we can be alone. And I only want you to know that for now, ok? Is that a deal?"

I never seem to understand Harry's disconnection with me or other people as his way with coping with things. He was tight lipped and worried because he thought I might not stay, or that I wouldn't listen. He was troubled that his secret would get out of his control, that I'd tell what he saw to the Order and much worse the public.

He was just plain scared.

"I'll stay here as long as I'm welcome Harry. And you know that you can trust me, right?"

I hate the flicker of doubt behind his eyes but I can't hate him for it. It's how life is for him, the fact that any trust could be betrayed and in the process ruin someone's life.

Possibly his own and much more proabably, someone he cares for.

"Of course Draco. If I didn't, then we wouldn't be here right now, would we? Now let's go, it's freezing out here."

He pushes the front door to this new, alien place open and I step through into another undeniably terrible place in my life where he is the only light in a house so apparently filled with dark.

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**A/N:** Thank you to:** Moonlit Eyes, brionyjae, dreamerswaking, **&**ura-hd** ! Please keep the reviews coming, and thank you guys for sticking through such a long wait!

luv,

mintapotter


	17. Living

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N:** Thank you's for the reviewers at the bottom folks!

Enjoy!

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Chapter 17 - The Land of the Living

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"So this is it, huh?"

The house was as dark and creepy as most of my friend's places, chock full of meaningless heirlooms and valuables. Signs of old wealth were everywhere, nearly obscured by decay and disuse. It was a downer just to look at, the kind of house that sucks your soul out, even if you don't want it to.

I turn to joke about the state of décor but Harry keeps his eyes straightforward as we enter the house, avoiding mine. He's so distant sometimes I swear that he's not here at all.

It hurts a little to be ignored so completely.

"Not that you want to, but you've got to-"

"I know Draco. And perhaps when everyone's here you won't want to be around to be fingered with the blame of knowing where I was all this time. My rooms right upstairs, if you'd like to wait there a while."

I nod and swallow a lump in my throat, heading up a set of creaking stairs as he goes in the opposite direction, following a different set into what must be the basement.

"Fine, just cut me out and tell me to leave. Thank you Harry, thank you loads. It's not like you worried me and forced me here in the first place, oh no, this is somehow my fault."

I realize that I truly am going mad, talking to myself but I don't really care all that much. I'm soaking wet, shivering and fuming at his complete hypocrisy.

"If you're so damn worried about me that you want me to live here, why don't you spend a second or two grabbing me a towel or something? Why'd you bring me here if you want me to hide?"

I find a room that's unmistakably his, his clothes strewn in a corner and the bed unmade. I sniff at it, and continue on down the hallway to perhaps find the bathroom and some towels to dry off.

"And how am I supposed to live with Ron around, knowing that he hates me and that he has every right to do that? And why won't you just talk to me and tell me what in the fuck is-"

"Draco?"

I've been peeking around underneath the sink, about to pull a towel from the corner when his whisper startles me. I whip up so fast that my head collides hard against the sink's granite underside, a dull thud emitting from my skull.

"Ow, fuck! What do you want?"

Harry slips slowly into the bathroom, pulling the towel out for me and wrapping it carefully around my shoulders before sitting down in front of me.

"Are you losing your mind talking to yourself?"

"Most likely. Comes with the territory of being around you I suppose."

"Why?"

"Because you're insufferable! You bring me here to leave me, you tell me the reason for doing it is some vision you can't explain to me. You hardly even try to tell me what you see! And you're nearly as stubborn as me, not a great combination."

I stop to rub my head and wince, he biting his lip and nodding slowly.

"I'll try harder now. But they're here, that's why I came up here. Hermione, Ron, Lupin, Tonks-"

"I get the picture. And can I be the first to say I'm not in the kind of shape to see them all right now. How'd you explain to Hermione how I found you?"

Harry shrugs, unfurling from the floor to cross the room and begin running a bath.

"I told her that you dissaperated to the cemetery, but to the wrong spot. And I was trying to get away from Lupin, and I ran into you. I made it sound as though it was all by chance. And now I'm going to tell them that you're in the bath and that you'll be down for supper in a bit."

He looks down at me a bit before stooping over and dropping a quick kiss on my forehead.

"And I'll tell them that you're staying here on my wishes and that they can't talk me out of it. And maybe I'll explain everything a little clearer later, ok?"

"Ok, I'll be down in a bit."

He tries quite valiantly to throw me a smile before he closes the door behind himself, but he's too tired. His eyes are little deadened, dark circles forming underneath of them. He doesn't stoop, but his entire being just seems weighed down by something.

We're always too tired from being angry and sad and scared at all the same time. Everyone is just falling apart all over the place and maybe tonight we'll all just talk it over and figure everything out. Maybe I can apologize to the Weasley's and they'll accept it wholeheartedly, and Harry will explain what he sees and we'll all understand what it is that's happening. Maybe I can live here in peace and quiet and no one else around of us will have to die.

I think back to that boy in my ward, to how if Harry saw him he was either dead or dying.

I hate to say it, but I think that to lose that much blood you've get to be dead.

I chuckle and start to undress, the bath steaming and fogging the mirror already.

It's a little bit surreal, but none of the 'maybes' are going to come true anytime soon.

Life in the Place is about to get ten times harder, and I've got no choice but to deal with it as it comes. I've nowhere else to go that's safe anymore. But Harry? He may be made of tougher stuff than most, but he's not invincible. And if things are taking a toll now, I hate to think to what they might be like with time.

"We're in for a hard haul Harry…" I murmur, my words lost in the vacant emptiness of the bathroom.

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"No. Harry, this isn't fair. I can't."

Watching Ron plead with me is too hard to take. I hardly ever talk to him, purposely push him away and avoid him as much as humanly possible. Kicking him while he's down has become an everyday thing to me, but this is quite obviously his last straw.

"Listen, Draco's staying here and that's final. He's got nowhere else to go-"

"And me Harry? Where am I to go? Hm? Would you just love it to send me back to the Burrow now?"

He spits the words out at me, venom seeping from his core. He hates me, and that's a good thing. A have to remind myself that more and more, that the further away people I care about are from me, the better off they are.

This is for his own good.

"If you can't stand being around him then maybe that's a good idea."

The silence is almost harder than him hissing at me. I can hear the very dust motes floating in the air landing on the worn floors, I swear I can even hear the straggly light pushing it's way through the moth eaten curtains.

"If I just went home and stabbed myself to death with the butcher knife, would that make you happy? Is that what you're angling for, because I'm about this close to just losing it with you."

Ron finally just breaks me. I think of a hundred ways to say 'Don't be so melodramatic' and 'Maybe that would be for the best' but there's no way in hell I can do it. I can't lie to him with his emotions already sliced up by his now insanely dreadful life.

He's killing himself over losing me, and I'm killing him by letting him drift away.

"No." Is all I whisper back, trying to put all my own emotions and words behind it.

"That's what I'll have to do if I move back there Harry. I can't, I just can't and I'm sorry. I don't just get over people dying like you do…"

"I don't get over it." I breathe the words rather than say them but I think he catches them anyway. "I don't cry because I've got no time to spend weeks sobbing. I'm supposed to get over it and save the world, remember? And I don't get over it, I hide it. I push it down Ron. And no-one should have to live in the house that makes them remember the dead. You don't have to leave."

Ron's crying, I can tell because his head is bowed and his shoulders are shaking. I think I'm supposed to walk out and fetch Hermione, I think that that's what would make up for my lapse in judgement. That's what I should do to push him away.

But I can't do it again, and goddammit, it's hard. I move to sit beside him and pull him towards me, holding on to him and letting him cry the way I was supposed to days and days ago. The way I should have been for weeks. The way he would have let me if I had ever let myself cry over Cedric or Sirius.

"You live here, it reminds you of Sirius. You shouldn't have to live here."

I shush him quickly, forgetting that I am breaking my own rules.

"I choose to stay here, but I don't have to. But Draco's got no choice, he's between somewhere dangerous and here. I can't make him leave now, I've promised."

Ron pushes me away, striking away at his tears without embarrassment, only anger.

"What about what you promised me? You're my best friend Harry, don't I have any precedence over Draco anymore? Don't I count?"

To say I'm shocked is an understatement. To say that I'm hurt doesn't even begin to assess all the pain his words make me feel.

"I can't make you two like each other. I can't make you accept apologies from him, and I can't stop making him apologizing. And I can't make either of you leave. If I had any control here, none of this would have happened, ok? Your Mum would be alive and you'd be at the Burrow, and so would I. And Draco's satanic Father would be in Azkaban, and he would be safe from him. But I don't have my way and I can't make any of those things happen, but I'm trying my very fucking best alright! And this," I stopped and slowed down to catch my breath, "is all I've got to offer the both of you. It's all that I've got."

Ron nods, his shaky breaths bit by bit returning to a normal pace. His freckles seem to be almost a joke on his pallid white skin, his flaming red hair losing it's luster.

He was as tired of all this shit as I was, but he got it. This was the very best I could come up with considering the circumstances.

He was going to be fine.

"Alright. I'll stay, and he can stay, and we'll both just figure it out." He stood up to leave, his eyes the constant state of red, "And welcome back Harry." He added with a sorry smile.

I picked at the scabs adorning my knuckles and wrist, confused at his response.

"Welcome back to what?" I ask, and he finally cracks a smile.

"Us. The living."

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**A/N: **Thank you, powerful reviewers:

**brionyjae,** **MimiTaylor,** **Megalicious Moony,** **Moonlit Eyes,** **Crysania Fay,**&**Blue Lycan, **thank you tons. I always read the reviews first in my inbox, and yours made me smile!

luv,

mintapotter


	18. D W W

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N:** Thank you's for the reviewers at the bottom again!

Enjoy!

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Chapter 18 - Dead Woman Walking

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To say that supper was tight lipped would be so inaccurate that it's not funny. To say that getting Draco a room separate from me, and to try and get Ron to understand that he and Draco both had to stay, that was difficult.

But deciding not to block out the things in my dreams, to sleep normally and let whatever crazy apparitions in, that was hell.

But when the sun from my window awoke me the next day, and I was still in one piece, that was astonishing. I couldn't remember a single dream or nightmare from the night before. I hadn't woken once all night, and there wasn't a scratch on my body.

I was starting to think that letting these…_things…_ in wasn't so bad.

So I got out of bed late, leaving my covers disarranged as I normally did. I could smell bacon and eggs wafting up the stairs, but I wasn't hungry. Some things never change.

And after a day and night as high strung as my last one, I didn't feel like plastering a smile on and bidding everyone a cheerful 'good morning.' I slipped into the bathroom and silently thanked God that no one else was waiting for it.

To be completely alone was a blessing.

I turned the water on as hard as it would go, the houses plumbing creaking into action bit by bit. Rust clogged the old showerhead, the red water flowing out of it reminding me unpleasantly of diluted blood against the white tiles. I didn't want to think of that though, so I turned away from it and began to undress, thinking instead of things that mattered.

Like that poor little boy I had seen only yesterday morning.

I was loath to admit it, but I knew that he was dead. I didn't want to attend his funeral; I had had my quotient already for the year. I didn't want to go back to a place of that kind of grief, and besides, I wasn't invited. Not to mention that his parents were already dead.

_I'd probably have to say a quick 'hello' to them too, if I attended._

I stepped under the hot spray and tried my very best to wash away the thoughts. After Jon, there was another thing that was bothering me.

_MM. mm._

The initials he underlined and wrote everywhere that he could. He couldn't talk, but he had a message, and it was the letter M.

Maybe it was the initials to somewhere? Perhaps a name, maybe a place? A code for something else?

Or perhaps I was looking too deep and that was the only letter he recognized. Maybe he meant it as in the sound, like food that tasted good.

Maybe I was just going crazy and making connections for the hell of it.

I felt something at my heel and realized that I couldn't see the soap, and was forgetting the real purpose of a shower.

To wash.

"Good thing I didn't slip-" I started to speak and stooped to grab the last sliver of soap, and then stopped.

A single, gray and rotting finger was scratching my heel. It had pushed away the mesh cover of the shower drain, it's nail ripped away long ago and the scabs revealed underneath oozing a blood so black it resembled tar.

I caught my scream in my mouth and forced it back down into my throat, scrambling for the far side of the shower, and then for the door, before I stopped.

"They aren't here to hurt me."

I whispered this to myself, forcing myself from running screaming from the shower stall. I watched one, two, three more fingers push their way up from the plumbing beneath me. None had nails, and one sported a fancy ring, coated in fresh black blood.

They scratched at the tile, the fingers leaving streaks of blood rather than scratch marks from the nails. I thought it couldn't really, get any worse.

Then, whatever it was squished in the plumbing below me, started to scream.

And it carried up from the tubes, echoing all around me in the walls of the foggy bathroom. A women's scream, not unlike the one I hear in my mind every time I hear my mother in my mind, but this one in agony rather than sorrow.

There was no way, no way in fucking way in _hell_ that I was the only one that could hear this in the house.

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"Do…do you hear that?"

Ron stared at me from across the table, in the middle of spreading butter on a piece of toast. I could tell that he wanted my mouth to shut up, and my brainless blonde head to implode, but he was containing his anger well.

I wouldn't blame him if stupid comments like mine set him off and he simply launched across the table and tried to take me out.

"What, Malfoy?"

Hermione was the one who had the courtesy to respond to me, everyone else in the Order simply ignoring me, a little too pointedly.

"That…the pipes. It sounds like there's something stuck in them, it's rattling like hell. Do they normally do that?"

Hermione eyed the very same wall as I was, but she didn't seem to hear the same as I did. I could hear the shaking of the pipes within the stone walls of the house, I could have sworn it.

"I don't hear anything." She responded curtly, even her hate thinly concealed.

I didn't want to be a pain in the ass, but my Malfoy nature doesn't like to be insulted when I know that I am right. And even though this was a simple thing, it was ridiculous. Why pretend not to hear something that obvious, just to get back at me? I wasn't giving up.

"Look," I told her, putting my cup of coffee down beside the rattling wall, and watching it ripple with the reciprocation of the sound, "there. You can see those can't you? The little waves? It sounds like the whole wall's about to cave in."

Hermione wasn't the only one to turn at this, all of the tables occupants mystified by my rippling cup of coffee.

"I can see that, but I don't hear anything Malfoy. Nothing at all."

"Neither do I." Added Ron, nods of consent rippling around the table.

"Listen, this isn't funny-" I huffed, and then as quickly as it started, it stopped.

"Oh, there it goes now. It stopped."

"Stop being such a twit Malfoy." Spat Ron, and I was about to open my mouth to retort when I could hear a very distinct stomping down the stairs.

Harry skipped the last three stairs and fell against me instead, grabbing wildly at my wrist and turning back towards the stairs as though to check if something was following him.

"Draco? I have to go to Malfoy Manor, now. Right, right now!" Harry spoke his words so fast that they almost slurred together, his hair soaking wet and spraying me with the excess. Water still dripped off his face and arms, he barely dried after his morning shower.

"Did you just hear something… something to do with the pipes?" I asked, his eyes instantly widening to the size of saucers. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.

"You…you heard that?" he whispered back. In an instant, something clicked and he grinned insanely. He hugged me for a second and then pushed me away, still overcoming his spasm of glee.

"I'm not crazy! You can hear it too!"

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The screaming was echoing off the walls at an insane pitch, the wailing louder than any human voice need be. I covered my ears to try and block it out, but it was all for nothing.

"Stop! Stop, I'll tell!" the voice cried.

The torturer of the screamer seemed to take pity, and the voice abruptly stopped. The fingers stopped their scrambling and scratching tirade at the tiles and a voice came instead from the pipe.

"I'll tell you, just stop!" it asked, the voice of a woman, not a young girl. She seemed to be stately and well bred and was yet still begging with me, the agony held in her voice still tingeing the words. The voice also seemed a little eerie, like someone talking from the opposite end of a tube, or underwater.

Not quite all there. Here. Where ever it was my mind was right now.

"Tell me what?" I whispered back.

The screamer sighed. "It's in… it's in the Manor. It's here, all in the Manor, everything he needs. But he doesn't know the code, he doesn't have the key! He'll never even know where to look. He'll never know, and I'll never tell you! I'll never betray my own!"

The voice laughed, the ring on her rotting finger tapping against the copper drain with a staccato vibrancy.

"What? Tell me the code, I need to know!" I wasn't sure how I kept my voice going, but it was obliging.

"Never! I'd never help you and all the other Death Eaters! You'll never get it out of me, everything I just said, you already knew! You had all that information already-"

Her scream punctured her words, the fingers gripping the edges of the pipe as though holding on for dear life. In an instant they were ripped down by a force I didn't want to fathom, the screaming following them down the pipe along with the swirl of the wastewater.

I sat a moment longer, my mind in a virtual shock. I jumped up, connecting the dots where connections previously couldn't be made.

I slammed the water off and threw on the boxers, trousers and clean T-shirt I had brought in with me without taking the time to dry off. I slammed down the stairs as quickly as I could, the need to be with other, rational people that could maybe keep these demons away overwhelming.

I ran so fast in the kitchens that I nearly bowled Draco over, he giving me a look of quizzical disbelief.

"Draco? I have to go to Malfoy Manor, now. Right, right now!"

"Did you just hear something… something to do with the pipes?" he asked, and in that very second, those exact moments, I was astonished. I was happy, I was gleeful.

_I, am not, crazy._

"You…you heard that?" I grabbed Draco and held him tight, hugging him before realizing what crowd I was in front of and pushing him away, the smile not letting itself slide off my lips.

"I'm not crazy! You can hear it too!"

Draco smiled back a little, unsure of what I meant.

"If you have to go to the Manor because all the pipes went haywire, I still don't get the connection?"

I could feel the smile slipping, but I wished that it might stick around longer. I missed happiness.

"You…you only heard the pipes?"

Draco nodded, but added "But what is it that you heard that made you so eager to run off?" as though to make amends for so obviously bringing down my moral.

I didn't much care.

I'm used to the depressing reality by now.

"That doesn't matter. I have to get over to Malfoy Manor, right now. It's urgent."

Lupin was the first to stand, then Mad Eye and Tonks to follow.

"We'll come along with you and send a message for Dumbledore to join us after. You can maybe explain a little more once we're there?" Asked Lupin quietly, thankfully not asking for the explanation now.

"Please come, but Ron and Draco don't even ask. You really shouldn't… see this. I'll explain later…"

Ron looked confused and Draco a little hurt, but I knew why for the both of them.

Ron was getting left behind because I knew him too emotional, but he didn't understand that yet. He was too easy a target for emotional batterment, and running off to find dead bodies wasn't the best way to get over your own very recently deceased mother.

Draco was hurt because he thought himself strong enough to go back there. But I knew what I'd find, I knew most likely where and how. And he shouldn't have to see that kind of inhumanity I the very same place he was forced to live in, the same place he was nearly tortured to death.

I stepped into the green flames of the fire and spoke 'Malfoy Manor' softly, wishing that I, myself didn't have to return. It wasn't going to be pleasant; I decided that I didn't want to be the one to find the body. I had not yet eaten and still felt nauseous about seeing a body so early in the morning.

"Go in and look around. I think that there's a woman in there, dead. Her fingernails are gone, and there's an expensive ring still on her finger. She knew something that Voldemort needed, and didn't tell, so she was on our side. And there's something in the house that needs a code, or a key. Since we're probably too late, it'll probably be gone. But if not," I sighed, the energy draining from me as my adrenaline came down, "look around. If we get it, point us. If they already have it, we lose. Again."

Lupin stared at me a moment, astonished. We were back on the drive right outside of the Malfoy Manor, exactly where I had started up the driveway to find Draco in the dungeons. That night, that moment was too strong a part of my life for me to want to walk through the Manors doors again. I had no intentions of re-entering the house, and delegated that task out to people a little more capable than me.

Already they were heading up the path, Tonks staying behind with me and standing around scuffing her shoe in the dirt. I didn't feel like talking, and she wasn't about to push her luck.

I watched and spoke methodically when Dumbledore and some men from the Ministry showed up, telling both of them what they'd find when they entered the house. Each one of them returned to me later, a look of unparalleled horror in their eyes.

I was pulling away now, receding. It was where I was most comfortable; alone with myself.

I didn't tell them in the open how I knew that there was a woman here, or how I knew she'd be dead. I didn't say a word when they asked about the nails and the ring.

I don't remember breaking down crying, or apparating for the Place with Tonks helping me along. I woke up in a daze that night the day having slipped through my fingers entirely. Ron had fallen asleep in a chair by my bedside, and I understood that it was already night.

I had lost control of myself again, but I couldn't quite remember what had set me off.

Only then did I flash back to this morning, remembering the reserved words that had sent me into a spiral.

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"Who," I had coughed, my throat dry, "Who is she? The dead woman?" I could barely believe that I was asking the question, but my appointed guard from the Ministry didn't seem to care much about me. He didn't seem to connect the dots that my own Mother and my best friends had both been murdered in my lifetime. He didn't realize how difficult another dead woman's body was for me to handle.

"That's what's so amazing," said the random man from the Ministry, the early morning sun shining down on the two of us out on the Manor lawns. The body was being levitated away on a stretcher, a white sheet spread over it, only the tips of the bloodied fingers slipping from underneath the veil.

"We were pretty sure down at the Ministry that she was off with her lot, and pure evil through and through. But we should have known it was coming for her in the end. She was in too deep." he shrugged noncommittally, "it was Narcissa Malfoy."

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**A/N:**Let me tell you again - you guys kick ass - **Megalicious Moony,** **Moonlit Eyes,** **brionyjae,** **Crysania Fay,** **MimiTaylor, **&**Blue Lycan. **

Keep the reviews coming!

luv,

mintapotter


	19. Stop

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N:** Thank you's for all the beautiful (and patient)reviewers at the bottom!

Enjoy!

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Chapter 19 - Stop

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I woke up to see Ron's gangly form slumped in a chair beside my bed, his bright red head lolling backwards at a very uncomfortable angle. My eyes didn't want to open for me but they also took in the very awake and alert figure of Draco sitting not far from Ron, his encouraging smile greeting me.

"What time is it?" I whispered, careful not to wake Ron. Not yet, anything but now.

Draco mouthed back that it was 3 in the afternoon, and I could tell that his day would end in little more than few minutes. It was almost funny how as long as you were oblivious to something it was like it had never happened to you. I never hated or even knew about Voldemort killing my parents until I was eleven. I was much happier, I think, without that grisly knowledge of their murder.

I didn't want to be the one to extinguish what was left of a sparkle in Draco's eye, but I knew that I had to be the one to break it to him. This was the kind of thing I was getting more and more used to; breaking other people's terrible news to them. It was awful to think about, worse to actually do but somebody had to do it. Right?

"Harry, you ok? You seem a little…distant." Draco whispered carefully, eyeing Ron before edging onto the corner of my bed. "What happened at the Manor? Tonks said that a woman was dead but she didn't say who…"

I had to bite my tongue to keep from crying out who it was, but I kept the urge down and was thankful only moments later as Ron awoke groggily to the world.

"Harry, mate, you're up! I suppose I dozed off, didn't sleep much last night…" Ron drifted off and was I a considerate person I would have asked what was wrong and had helped him out. But I was quickly giving up my soul in order to complete what had to be done. I needed to go back to being methodical and distant so that these everyday deaths would stop affecting me so much.

In other words, Ron would be dealt with later.

"I'm fine Ron, really. I need to talk to Draco, alone, for a moment though. I'll be down later if you'd please just tell everyone to not come up here for a while. You can ask Tonks why…" I tried not to make it sound too awful for Ron, but I could see the tiny smile that had formed on his freckled cheeks when he first awoke evaporate before me. Ron was falling apart and Draco was about to and I was already so far gone that I didn't want to have to deal with either and at the same time I wanted to be whole again so that I could help both of them like they needed to be helped.

Another time, another day.

"Sure Harry, whatever you need." He wouldn't look me in the eye as he walked out of the room, closing the door a little more forcibly than he needed to. It hurt to have to give up my best friend for my lover, but sometimes these sacrifices had to be made.

Draco. That was what this all boiled down to.

"Draco, I have…I have to tell you something."

Draco was so beautifully fragile looking that I was afraid that maybe I was about to break him. He put up a front that was stronger than he actually was, and I was going to have to tear it down.

"And I'm so, so sorry Draco. You can't understand how sorry I am."

Damnit, there goes my voice. He inches closer to me and takes me by the hand, his already cold. His eyes are all questions; he's not prepared for this. He doesn't even have an inkling.

I'll start, from the beginning.

"Draco, there are a few things you need to know about your Mother. She was on our side, until the very end. And don't ask me how I know this, I just know-"

"NO! She wasn't! She left me to die in those dungeons and she didn't give a fucking damn!" Draco explodes at me, ripping his hand from my grip. I bite my tongue again and count until ten so that I give him some time to cool down. This is going to be hard on the both of us.

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"No Drake, she didn't. She had to keep her cover, but deep down she wanted only for you to live and for us to win. She was on our side Drake, right till the end, even if she could never let you know."

"No, no, no…she wasn't. And why are you saying 'was'?" I could feel my throat tightening; my voice was cracking from some form of fear. I didn't want to believe anything Harry was about to say.

"This morning, what I heard Drake, it was-"

"Don't say it was her because that means that…no Harry, no, it can't be, there's no reason for it…" My eyes were already watering before he said the words, but I already knew it from his green eyes.

She was gone.

"Your Mother told me things this morning, when you could hear the pipes, and what she said was all about helping us and not selling you out. She loved you Drake, she was fighting for you deep down."

"Don't say it Harry. There's no reason for it."

Harry's hand gripped mine, his warmer and stronger and not owned by the kind of person that would lie. I needed for him not to say it.

"She's dead Draco. I'm sorry, but she was murdered this morning."

Heart break. I could feel a little vestige of my old life crumbling; I could feel a pain so deep it was beyond even just pain. My own Mother, my Mother, was dead. Gone. Forever more, never to return. I had lost her, and I had been the cause because she was stupid enough to love me. If she had hated me as much as she had pretended to, then I could still hate her and she wouldn't be dead.

I'm the reason she's gone.

I'm the reason that everyone's dying, nowadays.

"Draco? You listening?"

I focus and see Harry's eyes, clear and completely empty. Hollow. Like he's not there anymore. Oops, looks like I did that too.

"Draco, I know that this isn't what you want to hear, but this isn't your fault. She didn't die because of you."

I cough a laugh, dry. My throat hurts and my hands are cold, and I can tell that I'm going to cry sometime soon. I can feel my eyes watering even though I don't want them to.

"It is, don't lie. Lies, lies, lies. She died because she wanted me alive, and Ron's mother died because she got in the way to me…"

Harry tells me to hush and he gets out of bed and tucks me in instead, holding my hands and cupping my face with his soft hands all the while. I'm crying now and I'm really happy that no-one's around to see but him. He understands.

"They all die because of me Harry…"

"Come on now Draco, that isn't true. I thought that for the longest time…"

"You still think that, you're lying to me. You still think it but it's not true. My Mother and Ron's mum and everyone's going to get hurt because of me! Your parents are dead partially because of my Father, he being a Death Eater. And Cedric, because of Voldemort and the Death Eaters and therefore my Father. And he was in so deep because he wanted me to continue on in the inner circle. It's all down to me, in the end…"

Harry's silent, and I almost wish that he'd tell me that I was wrong and then I could believe him about it. But he brushes my hair from my eyes and says that he's sorry and turns out the light, and he leaves me there.

He knows, somewhere, that I'm right. He hates me, I hate me, everyone does and those who don't will someday soon.

"I'm sorry…" I whisper to the room, and I start to cry again but even Harry isn't there anymore to wipe my tears away.

My last stand doesn't even want me anymore, and it's all for the better. Wouldn't want him dead too.

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I walk downstairs slowly, the sound of Draco sobbing getting quieter as I descend the stairs. I want to cry too, but I won't. No reasons for me to be sad at a time like this; I need to be strong.

"Harry? How'd he take it?"

I look up and Tonks is there, her warm smile out of place in the gloominess of the Place. I realize that there is no way but one way for it to go, and they're all holding out for something that won't happen. They just want Draco not to care so that they won't have to care for him. They've already dealt with Ron and me for so long that they don't want to have to care about Draco.

"How'd you think he took it?" I try to keep the edge out of my words, but they sting. The faces around me seem ashamed, and that's a good thing. They all just lost their Mother; shouldn't they know how hard it is? Shouldn't they be the first up to care? Why is it always my fault?

"…Harry? Did you…did you just leave him up their? Is he ok?"

Hermione touches my shoulder lightly but I pull away; I don't like getting touchy. Touch is the one thing I'm not ready for in times like this.

"What the hell do you want for me? I can't take care of everybody; can't someone else do it for a change?" I grit my teeth and wait for someone, anyone to say something, but they all just stare blankly.

So I leave, I walk, and then I run, and I'm out the door again. I could apparate anywhere and they'd never find me, but I don't. I just run until my lungs burn and my eyes stop watering and my throat hurts. I run until every muscle in my body aches and screams to stop.

And for once, no one follows me. I'm all alone in the city, to think clearly, far away from everyone who muddles my thoughts. No one around me now knows that I am Harry Potter, famous boy who lived. They don't know about everyone who has died and those who probably will. They don't give a fuck, and once my breathing is normal again and my mind is clear I head back to the Place I know that I don't have to either.

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"Mione, we can't just let him leave! Who knows where he'll go-"

"Ron, just let him be! He needs to be alone! We can't always be there for him; sometimes he needs to figure things out for himself."

Hermione may be logical, but I don't like a single thing that she says. Harry needs to be alone? He's alone for a good portion of everyday, he's never around. He hardly speaks, he doesn't care anymore. For anything, anybody.

He needs us, even if he doesn't know that he does.

"Don't try and tell me that you're right if he doesn't come back Mione. And even if he does, he won't be the same. He's already going back to how he was! He won't talk; he won't be around in his mind even when he physically is here. He's already gone Mione, and if I can't find him then I don't know what to do…"

Hermione is always the strong one, she holds us all together. She keeps me afloat because Harry isn't around anymore to try. She hugs me tightly and with the smell of her hair and the feel of her back I really wish that I could just be happy with this. I wish that Harry could just go back to normal and be happy too, and we could go back in time to being the Trio. I want him to be whole again so that we all can be.

But I can hear Harry walking back through the front door, and when he turns and looks at the two of us I know that he's back to being dead. So much for 'welcome back to the living' to him. His eyes are empty when they should be sad; his stature is broken when it should be strait. He doesn't smile a hullo to us; he simply turns and goes back up the stairs.

"See that Mione? He's gone again, and you wouldn't let me try and stop it. Great fucking job."

I get up and leave her in the front room, following Harry's footsteps up the dingy and worn stairs and hoping that he was with Draco, comforting someone who needed it. I realized that I should be with Hermione, appologizing although I wasn't about to anytime soon. But when I looked through the crack in the door I could see that Draco was sleeping in an empty room, and when I looked through the next doorway I could see that Harry was sitting alone as well, staring blankly at the wall. He didn't give a fuck about anyone but himself. Not me, not Hermione, not Draco...

And maybe it was about time that we stopped giving a fuck about him.

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**A/N: **Thank you to: **toots, ****Moonlit Eyes,** **bernice,** **Crysania Fay,** **Blue Lycan, ****LustAintLove, ****Megalicious Moony,** **MimiTaylor,** **brionyjae,**& **rosiegirl **! You reviewers already know my love for you so don't stop anytime soon!

Please review and as always,

luv mintapotter


	20. Sick

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N:** Thank yous are at the bottom and please...

Enjoy!

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Chapter 20 - Sick

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I woke up in a chair, no sounds of someone else breathing in my ears. I was alone, at a terrible angle and worried over someone… Draco. This is what it must have felt like for Ron, watching over me after I had got back from the Manor.

Only Ron had enough in him to care, to sit by my bedside until I woke up. Ron was always, always there, even when I didn't want him to be. He was a fighter, and he'd be fine on his own. And Draco…Draco was much stronger than he let on. He had the outward appearance of something fragile and delicate, something soft. But he was hard when he had to be; he'd get through all of this and much more without batting an eyelash. Draco would make it without me.

And I…I was fucked up. I needed both of them more than they'd ever need me, but I couldn't be with them. The only way I could show them that I cared about them was to push them away. I was keeping them safe from myself as long as I didn't let them get too close…but no one else understood this concept.

"How many more people have to die or get hurt before they all realize that it's a side effect of living near me?" I grumbled more to myself than anyone, tiptoeing into Draco's room to check that he was still alive. Well. Sane.

And he is; my angel. He's sleeping with a slight frown permanently etched into his features. He used to sleep peacefully with his face absent of all cares. He was scarred by his Mother dying, but I left the room as quickly as I had come, forcing down the urge to stroke his forehead, kiss him awake. He was better off in his nightmares than awake and happy with me.

"What did you think you were doing?" Ron hisses at me when I try to close Draco's door again, his blue eyes angrier than they have been in all the years I've known him. I want him to punch me.

"I'm checking on Draco, and now I'm leaving. I have some things to clear up."

I try to walk past Ron but his hand lashes out and grabs me by the arm, his hand whipping me around to face him. I stare at his feet instead of those angry eyes, counting the holes in his threadbare socks.

"You bloody left him there last night Harry, you left when you shouldn't have! What do you think you're doing here? You can't leave like that, it's dangerous and-"

"You sound like Hermione." I cut in.

He clenches his fists slowly, cracking his knuckles menacingly but he still won't hate me. Poor Ron.

"Hermione's the one who let you go," he whispers, "I wanted to bring you back. And if you even won't stick around for me it'd help if you stuck around for him."

Ron's voice sounds gravelly, if I looked up his eyes would probably be full to overflowing with tears. But I can't falter now; I have plans for the day. Big plans. And they sure as hell don't involve him or Draco. Draco said enough stupid things last night to last me for days.

"Everyone's going to have to learn someday that I can't be around to take care of everything all the time. Someone else can deal with all this today how-about? As I said, I have things to do. And I'm leaving." I pull out from his grasp, taking the stairs two at a time and rushing out through the Floo before anyone else wakes up and decides to knock some sense into me.

I'm angry, I don't know why, and I need to be somewhere right now. I can feel it. There's something I'm missing and once I've found it, I can rest. No sleep, no food, no social niceties until I'm done. MM, Narcissa's death, my visions…they're related. I can feel it in my bones. All I have to do is connect the dots, and Malfoy Manor seems just the place to start.

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There's an awful kind of coughing by someone; they should leave the room. It sounds terrible, not the kind of bug I want to catch. Are they choking? I just want the sound to stop, but when I open my eyes it hits me.

That coughing is me.

"Draco? Did you swallow something the wrong way?"

That voice is…Tonks. She woke me up, she brought me breakfast. I fell asleep again, or unconscious, while I was trying to stomach something. And this hacking hurts my throat so much, my eyes are watering from pain even though I want anything but to cry in front of her. I can taste blood from the scratches I can feel in my throat; the food is tearing up my mouth. I stop coughing and feel nausea like never before. I've only had toast and milk, nothing to make this terrible.

Something's wrong.

"I'm full…I don't want anymore." My voice is raspy, it hurts to only talk. She nods and picks my tray up, her footsteps seemingly louder than life on the wooden floors. I can hear each floorboard creak, each clacking of my cutlery against the china. I can hear voices outside the room after she leaves; someone's talking on the other floor. Why is everyone yelling?

I get up and cross the floor to the doorway slowly, closing it quietly and trying to get back to my bed as soon as possible. I'm impossibly sore, as though someone had beaten me from head to toe the day before but there isn't a bruise in sight. The room is frigid and I can't stop shivering even under the covers. It's so cold…why wasn't she shivering? And now I'm sore, I must have stubbed my feet on the way over to the door because they hurt now too…maybe this is a bad dream. Maybe I have a fever and these are all hallucinations. I'll wake up and be just fine, I'll be warm and hungry and free from pain. And Harry will come and say good morning and everything will be back to normal.

I want this all to stop.

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"How…how is he?"

Why I do these things for Harry still, I'll never know. He is being the most ungrateful, self centered prick on the planet and yet I'm still overtaking his roles in his absence. I have to stomach a whole lot of pride and anger to ask about Draco's condition. I want for Harry to be doing this so I can hate Draco properly; I shouldn't have to look out for his well being.

"I know he's not well but I think it's more than just grief. He's more than peaky, I think he's really under the weather. Whether of not it's important enough to risk going to St. Mungo's I don't know, but I wouldn't want to risk staying here either."

Tonks' point is clear; we're only taking Draco to the hospital if the risk is worth it. Grief is something that explains why he won't eat, why he's tired and antisocial. But if this is something other than that and we act too late…there'll be hell to pay and Harry will be dishing it out.

"Let's give it some time and see if it's really a sickness, and then go if we have to. And really, how could he have caught a Muggle disease when we've been here so long?"

Hermione shrugs noncommittally, "Stranger things have happened in this house, Ronald."

I almost sting her back for calling me Ronald, but when I have so few people to count on these days I let it slip. She has enough on her plate dealing with Harry and me, I don't have to make it any harder than it is. All the nights Harry was too wrapped up in his own fucked up world to deal with me Hermione was there; at least she's consistent.

"Who the hell does Harry think he is? He should be the one here taking care of Malfoy, not me…" Hermione looks almost reproachful at me but shrugs again.

"He's…not himself right now. It's hard for him Ron, a lot harder than we'll probably ever know. And we all live with Draco here, he's not the only reason he's staying here. We can't hate him forever."

"I can try." I mumble, but don't risk anything louder.

Fred rushes into the room a moment later, George following close behind.

"You should really go check on the ferret-"

"-even for a rodent he isn't doing so well."

Fuck all this to bloody hell. If they care enough about his well being to get someone else to help than it must be serious.

"Somebody get Dumbledore, I think we're headed to St. Mungo's anyway."

Hermione manages a half grin at the situation and then leaves, off to organize something in ways only she can. I start upstairs and feel the twinge of loss I get every so often; I wish that my Mother was here and she could give Draco something to get him right back on his feet. She could take care of everyone like she used to. We're falling apart without her.

I snap out of my own thoughts because when I enter the room upstairs Draco is a right state worse off than I thought he'd be. I can already tell this is going to be bad.

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"You won't believe this."

Harry re-enters the Place with a grin that lights up his whole face, his eyes excited at something new. He's been gone all day, and why I have to be the one to face him now with more terrible news.

"I was at the Manor this morning, the Ministry let me in to look around and I found it! I found the thing that the Death Eaters were looking for! It's the reason they killed Narcissa but I found it in the house, in Draco's old room! You won't believe this Ron but everything's coming together and-"

"Harry. I've got to tell you something." I cut in, but Harry's waves it off and brandishes a box, bright as the sun with gold inlay and tiny buttons with letters and numbers covering the entire lid. He looks like a kid with Christmas come early.

"Ron, you have to see this. The code, I can't work out yet but the MM that little boy always said meant _Malfoy Manor_ and this, this has something inside of it that Voldemort wanted! It has something to do with Draco to I think, why someone wanted him dead in the first place. And maybe then whatever's inside of it could lead me to-"

"Harry, will you shut up and listen for just a second? Please."

He huffs impatiently. "Where is everybody? Where's Draco, he might know the code to open this thing up and-"

"He's sick Harry. Really, really sick." I can see the on/off switch of Harry's happiness flick to the off side, the sparkle in his eyes and his grin fading with every word. "Everyone's at St. Mungo's with Dumbledore, it's a huge problem. I was waiting here for you to come back so I could bring you there."

Harry nods, stuffing the tiny box back into his hoodie's pocket. He walked back over to the fireplace where he had only seconds ago Floo'd in from and grabbed a pinch without saying a word.

I followed close behind him, murmuring 'St. Mungo's' to the emerald flames for the third time that day. I liked it that Harry wasn't going to ask me how sick Draco really was because I was in no position to explain it fully. I don't think anyone was.

"What floor Ron?"

Harry's dead tone doesn't want bullshit; he wants to get there fast. I'm happy to oblige.

"Second floor, magical bugs. They have there own ward in there now, I think."

"They?" he questions over his shoulder, skipping the queue for the elevators and nearly speed walking to the stairs.

"All the people who have it…let the Healers explain, I'm botching it all up."

Harry doesn't respond, instead taking the last set of steps two at a time and whipping open the door, facing a huddle of Healers all frantically exchanging parchments and potions, all obviously busier than they ever had been. I felt sick looking at them all; it had gotten worse since I'd left. _They _had gotten worse.

"Excuse me, could I please get in to see Draco Malfoy?"

Three of the Healers stopped to face Harry, one of them finally stepping forward to talk with him. I can see Fred and George playing a game of exploding snap off in the lobby and I take a single glance back at Harry and the Healer before heading for the twins. If he really doesn't care all that much about anyone than he wont need me around to help him out after he sees Draco…right?

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"Are you…have you been informed of the situation?"

I grit my teeth and shake my head no, the Healer's behind the one talking to me glancing every so often at my scar and then back to their parchments and potions. Idiots.

"He is in a private room, number 1, but there are a few rules before you visit. No talking above a whisper, take off your shoes before you enter the room. Any change you have in your pocket has to be left with us before you enter. You'll go through a detoxifier before you enter, to get rid of any odours or dust in your clothing. You'll have to leave your wand outside as well. If you feel the need to sneeze, please leave the room or try and muffle the sound. And please don't even think about-"

"Anne! Number 17 is dropping fast!" a man yelled from down the hallway before running out of view.

The Healer, obviously Anne, whipped out her wand and ran off to follow him. Most of the Healers who had been stealing glances at me had ran off with her as well, and the clearly labeled rooms 1 through 8 were inviting me to explore them. Explore just the one.

No one was there to see me slip into Draco's room; no one heard the detoxifying machine roar into work, whipping the very dust off my body. No one explained to me the ending of Anne's speech, or why it was important. Nobody cared that I had found a fundamental link in all the madness of my life inside Malfoy Manor that day. Not even Draco was aware that I was inside his room, watching him breathe.

I was a little like the ghost of death, showing up wherever people were bound to die soon. I just hoped with all my heart that maybe this time, I would be wrong.

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**A/N: **Thank you to: **MimiTaylor,** **brionyjae,** **guitargurl227,** **Crysania Fay,** **Blue Lycan, ****LustAintLove,** **Megalicious Moony, **&**shorty-girly! **Just so you're aware, I actually already have the next chapter written. How's that for getting prepared?

Anyway, please keep reviewing,

luv,

mintapotter


	21. Punch

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

SLASH! Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N:** I had an insane amount of fun writing this...anyway, the reviewer 'i love yous' are at the bottom and...

Please Enjoy!

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Chapter 21- Punch

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The room is an eerie white colour, barely lit enough to see everythings shape and form. Crystal balls filled with a soft glowing light are what illuminate the room, casting strange shadows acrossDraco'sbody. No sound penetrates the room from the outside, no dust can be seen floating through the air.

I watched Draco breathe in and out for what seems like ages, taking in his form.

Whoever had done this to him had it coming.

His eyes were closed but fluttering underneath the lids as though he were still awake or in a horrific nightmare. A purple and blue bruise adorned the right side of his forehead; his lips were cracked and dry, bleeding in the middle. I realized, slowly, that he was floating off the bed. The hospital whites he was wearing were floating just off his skin, not making contact anywhere along his body. His hair barely touched his pillow; his hand wasn't quite lying on the mattress beneath him. He seemed perfectly suspended, nothing touching him and he touching nothing in return. It seemed frivolous, stupid even. Why would anyone need that?

But he was sick, that was plain as day. His skin seemed waxy with a thin sheen of sweat covering it, tiny blue veins crisscrossing his arms stark against the paleness of his skin. Everything had gone horribly, horribly wrong since when I had left in the morning.

"Harry? When'd you get here?"

His gray eyes were watery and pink, like he had been crying before I had walked in. I hadn't noticed him opening them, but I did notice the hoarseness in his whisper.

"Just now. I got back from the Manor, I found…" I realized that what I found had no relevance in my life in comparison to Draco. In a matter of minutes my priorities had shifted back to where they should have been the entire time; Draco comes first. That stupid box was just that; a stupid box. "I just got here and I don't know what's going on, love. I had no clue that you were so sick."

"Neither did I." He smiles sadly, licking his dry and chapped lips. "Ever since I got here it just keeps getting worse and I'm sorry but…I'm dying Harry."

"Don't say that." I chastise quietly, reaching for his hand and squeezing it tightly.

But Draco does not,

want me,

to touch him.

He rips his hand away and cradles it with his other hand, not quite touching them either. His head tilts back in a spasm of pain, the muscles in his neck stretching in agony. His mouth is open but he won't make a sound, a silent scream leaving his mouth. I recoil as though burned before the Healer, Anne, rushes in.

"I should have told you, no touching! None!" she wants to yell at me but she doesn't make a sound more than an angry whisper. She coaxes Draco to let her look at his hand even though tears are flowing quite steadily down his face. Her locks his jaw and lets her look at it, her fingers barely brushing his skin. She finishes with it and Draco closes his eyes again, breathing more raggedly and faster than before. She turns away at last, and looks at me.

"The bones are most likely snapped and we don't expect it to heal up any time soon, but he'll live. Please come with me."

I can feel my stomach churning; I broke Draco's hand. I squeezed his hand, not even that hard and I broke the bones. Crushed them. I hurt, him. I hurt him.

"I'm sorry." I whisper over my shoulder to him and he nods before Anne pulls me back through the doorway, back into a land with sound and dust and people who could touch. I didn't understand.

"I didn't mean to, I didn't know-"

"I know that, I was going to tell you before I was called away. But now that you're here, you have to know some things."

She sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, leading me by the shoulder to a bench under a portrait of a snoozing Healer. She has long reddish hair and kind brown eyes but even Anne seems frazzled, a person normally in control now out of it.

She smiles at me though.

"Your friend in there, Mr. Malfoy, he was the first to come in. That's why he's room 1, all of the patients are numbered. A whole family came in right after him though, 6 of them, and then another batch of 5 at about 2 this afternoon. Since then it's been a steady flow every hour, whole groups or people all alone coming in with the same problem."

All I can think of is 'which is?' but if I open my mouth now I think I'll vomit. I stay silent.

"They all seem to suffer from hypersensitivity. Anything too loud hurts their ears, light burns their eyes, touch," she sighs again. "bruises and breaks things. Smells make them cough up their lungs if they do it long enough, food either makes them feel as though starving or so full that they'll burst."

"Why can't you just fix it?" I cut in, my voice still a whisper since Draco's room. "Why didn't you give him something for the pain?" I remember that she handed him nothing, preformed no spell on his hand. Draco is shivering alone in his room right now, nursing crushed bones with nothing and nobody to help him.

This is wrong.

"We've tried absolutely everything. We're taking Healers from all the departments, we're flying in Healers from all over and we still can't stop it. We tried doing a Muffling Spell on case 17's ears to keep the sound from bothering him, but I turned him deaf by accident. Case number 2 had the most problems with pain from walking all day, her feet were split open. And we gave her a potion for the pain, but it numbed her so much that she just sort of…slipped away. They're both dead. So are another 4 of them, since they've all arrived. They all just keep getting worse and we don't know what to do to stop it."

I can hear my heart beating in my ears. I can feel the blood rushing through my veins, into my brain, but it's not working. Case 2, case 17, they're dead. So are another 4 nameless people. Maybe a family. Maybe children. They're gone. The Healers can't help. They're all doomed.

"_I'm dying Harry."_

Draco really is dying.

"Why are you telling me this?" I ask eventually, the last question I can spit up. My throat aches and I'm going to break soon, I know it. I have to cry for him, for the unfairness of it all. Anne doesn't notice me and smiles weakly, smoothing the wrinkles from her lime green robes in vain.

"We've heard a lot about you lately in the news Mr. Potter. You've been seeing things, or hearing things, or something, and we're hoping that maybe you'd understand what's going on here. We don't know what's causing it, or why, or how to prevent it or treat it for that matter. Do you…know anything about this?"

I laugh, and then have to bite my tongue from screaming at her. I'm being counted on to save all these people, fast, and I have no idea what's going on. I'm less equipped mentally than any of the Healers and yet I'm their last hope.

I'm the savior that can't fucking save a thing. Even something I love.

"Well, I don't know what's going on, and I don't have a solution. I'm sorry. I can't help."

I stand up and leave, walking past all the newly numbered rooms. They're each distinctive from the regular rooms by the large black numbers beside their frames. They go all the way up to 23.

23 people. 6 dead.

_Draco's dying._

I can see the Weasley's in the lobby, Lupin, Tonks, Dumbledore, all gathered to a section of it.

Grieving family members litter the other seats, grieving for other people. Number 17. Case 2.

None of them notice me or my scar. The Order see me coming, Hermione looks up from her knitting. They look normal, everyday. To them, this is mundane. Ron's playing a card game with the twins. He looks at me once, and then back at the game. McGonagall is here, reading over some sheet of parchment with Dumbledore. She doesn't see me coming. To them, this is nothing new. It's just another death, not like Mrs. Weasley's.

Draco's life is worth less to them. Worth less.

Worthless.

Draco's dying. I hurt him. I wanted to help, but I hurt him.

"_I'm dying Harry."_

I slide down the nearest wall, and I cry. I sob. I pull off my glasses and put them down somewhere nearby, the floor. The tightness in my throat makes it hurt to sob, to breathe. It should hurt more. My chest aches, my heart hurts. My tears are hot this time, I can feel them burning down my face, feel them wet my hands. I can't explain this, this is sorrow.

"_I'm dying Harry."_

I'm sorry.

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Dumbledore doesn't need to tell us to move Harry. He doesn't have to alert us that he's crying. Well nobody had to tell me. I can tell when these things are about to happen and as soon as I saw Harry coming towards us in the lobby, I knew it was coming.

On that first sob, the clink of his glasses on the floor, I was already up to help Harry. I knew it was coming, I just expecting something else.

I was expecting cold indifference. Silence. Shock. No tears, no words, none of this. I expecting him to close up and shrivel up and stop caring again. Like he did with me. Like he did with my Mother.

But oh no, over Draco, he would cry.

"Come on Harry, up." I mumble this to him even though he's in a faraway place where he can't hear me. I pull him from under his arms and follow Dumbledore to an empty room across the hallway, number 17. The bubble lights and silence other than Harry seems too intimate, but we have nowhere else private to go. Nobody follows us in but Hermione. She shuts the door as I sit Harry down on the bed, his sobs subsiding into shakes.

"I…I can't do this anymore." He croaks eventually, wiping the back of his hand across his faceroughly to try and wipe away the tears.

"Do what Harry?" I ask first, ignoring Dumbledore and Hermione. They can wait.

"_This_." He cries, gesturing at the room surrounding us. "This death, this me supposed to fix things. I can't do it anymore I won't! I'm sick of dealing with it! And it's always, always my fault and no one will hear me out when I say that but it's true! And I won't do it anymore, I won't…"

More tears leak through his eyelashes; they're plastered together in little peaks making his green eyes all rimmed in red the only thing I can notice of his face. He's hurting now, more than ever before but I don't know why. Why him, why Malfoy?

"It's not your fault Harry-" Dumbledore tried to cut in but Harry stands up off the bed and the vehemence behind his words seems to drown out even the Headmasters.

"But it IS! It is, and I know it! Everyone I care about, they get hurt. Ron and Hermione, all the Weasley's, all my friends…they all get hurt! All of them! You can't name a person I care about without something caused by me that harmed them! And they die too, Cedric died! He would never have died if I hadn't told him to take the cup!"

Harry stops to breathe, but no one cuts in this time. He seems to deflate the more he talks though, receding back to sit on the edge of the bed, tears falling down his face again.

"And those that I love, my parents, and Sirius…I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop it either. And Mrs. Weasley, I couldn't stop that either. And Draco, the one person I managed to save; now he's dying too." He shakes his head and throws his hands into the air, a look of defeat.

Harry Potter's giving up.

"And I can't help him now. I can't do a fucking thing."

"You stuck Draco in the wrong category mate." I murmur, his head downcast, eyes invisible behind the sheet of his hair. But slowly he shakes his head no.

"No, he's in the right category. And don't try and tell me otherwise or I'll really lose it."

"Harry, you can't possibly mean that you love-" Hermione starts in but I already know what I don't want to. I know that he's not lying, not crying over nothing.

This can't be happening.

"Yes I mean it and don't even _think_ about telling me the rules about this, alright? I already know everything that comes with this, and it doesn't change a thing. You can't change this. I love him. I just do."

I can see light spreading through the room from the doorway openeing and realize all too late that Dumbledore has left. Hermione keeps shaking her head but she turns and leaves too, closing the door slowly and obviously believing that I'll follow. I stay, and watch Harry cry more and more into his hands.

I walk right up while he's looking down, and punch him square in the jaw.

His head snaps back so perfectly, his body colliding into the bed at just the right angle to make it _look_ like it hurt that I'm happy with just that one punch.

"Harry Potter, that guy I used to call a friend. Whatever happened to him? Now he's just the fucking faggot savior of nothing and nobody."

He looks up, his green eyes tormented and tearing and I want to rip them out, but the sight of him wiping the scarlet blood flowing out of his mouth and down his chin away with his sleeve is enough. For now.

I leave him in that room, bleeding, dazed, depressed, whatever. He's a nothing and a nobody to me now; I've got no strings left to attach me to him.

He's completely, and utterly, alone.

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**A/N: **Alrighty...you already know that I love you, but here it is again...: **Yellow Bird, ****Megalicious Moony,** **brionyjae,** **MimiTaylor, **&**krippity **! Thank you SO much, please keep reviewing!

Luv,

mintapotter!


	22. Sleep

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

**SLASH!** Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N: **Reviewer 'iheart you's' are at the bottom and...

Please Enjoy!

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**Chapter 22 - Sleep**

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I don't quite remember how long I sat in that room below the eerie lights and cried. I could taste the iron of blood in my mouth and had to wipe a trickle of it off my chin. Eventually I realized that living at the Place would no longer be possible. I wouldn't feel happy with the people of the Order, the Weasley's. And I would be away from Draco in these, possibly his last days.

I hated, hated, hated what was happening.

The tears stopped coming after a while and I cleaned myself up in the bathroom, my lip spilt on the side where Ron's fist had connected. I looked pale and scared, my eyes red rimmed and my lip swollen and bruised. I half hoped that Ron was still in the lobby outside the door, that they were all there.

Maybe in my sad state they'd feel bad about me enough to listen to me at all.

I wanted to explain myself; I wanted to plead my case one last time. And at the same time I wanted them to all have left so I could be alone with my sadness, and not have to justify anything to anyone.

My first wish at least was granted.

The lobby was clear of anyone but those that I knew, the other grieving families for the other patients having been moved elsewhere. I walked towards them and all I could see was the look of complete hate in Ron's eyes, but I couldn't blame him. I blocked out the Order, Hermione. This was what I had been working towards for so long, getting him to hate me.

Making him hate me.

And now that I had gone and really done it, I wanted to take it back. It didn't matter if Voldemort knew who I loved and hated, they would all get hurt just the same. Whatever awful things that people were planning against Ron would happen whether or not he liked or hated me. I couldn't control everything.

I couldn't control anything.

"Listen…I'm sorry." I think that maybe these words are falling on deaf ears, but Ron continues to stare at me and doesn't turn away so I continue even though my voice feels about to break into a thousand pieces.

"I haven't been myself for a long time, but I didn't do it to hurt you, I didn't want that-"

"Bullshit. You ignored me, you ignored Hermione, you wouldn't talk to us, you ran away and never even thought to tell us where you might be. You lied, you kept secrets…You meant to hurt us Harry and you did it. Why the hell are you apologizing for that?" No-one reprimands Ron for his use of words, they remain silent. They have nothing to add to my list of misdemeanors, they have nothing left to say to me at all.

"I was trying to protect you." My voice comes out so small that I think nobody heard me at all. I repeat it, louder this time. "I was trying to protect you."

My eyes are watering but I blink to make the tears go away, to banish them to the back of my head. They won't leave, but I'm not crying yet.

"Everybody I care about openly, they get hurt. And this year I have seen people dying, being murdered, killing themselves and all I could think about was the fact that one day that would be you guys. One day I'd wake up and the vision would be of you, Ron, or you Mione. And I couldn't stand that, I could hardly bear it. And I couldn't tell you that, it was too morbid, too disgusting. I thought that somehow my mind was the thing that was killing all these people, and I believed that maybe if I wasn't thinking of you, and if I didn't care about you, you'd be safe. I wanted to protect you. I tried."

My eyes finally spill over and I turn away to hide them, wiping the tears away as fast as I can. I hate this and myself and all of them for being so stupid. I'm angry and sad and I'm scared.

"Why him Harry? Why the hell did it have to be Malfoy?"

Ron still doesn't get it.

"I fell in love Ron, it happens. And you have no idea how much it hurt me to have none of you that I could talk to, but I had him. I thought that since no one knew that I loved him, he'd be safe from all of the shit in my life. And now," the tear come back but I have no need to hide them anymore. Everyone can see that I'm dying here, "now he's dying, in pain, in that room over there and at this moment he's got nobody but me. And I want to help him, but I can't do it alone. I need you guys. I need you, and even if you hate me, you can hate me, but don't punish him and all those other dying people for it. Don't make him suffer this alone because I fucked up, ok?"

Hermione joins Ron at his side but nothing comforting comes from her lips. She spits her words at me.

"Don't go and try to guilt us into helping you Harry! You treated us like we were worth nothing to you, you kept him a secret and now you're asking us to help him live? You want our help now?"

Tears stop streaming down my cheeks, for that I am thankful. My throat hurts and feels constricted but this is no time to lose it. I have to win this case for Draco, at least for Draco.

"You can hate me. By all means do it, it's not like I have anything else to lose right now." Lupin walks forward as though to say something to this but I continue on. "You can hate me because I'm an idiot. Hate me because I'm an asshole, because I ignored you, because I treated you all like shit. And hate me because I'm gay, I don't care! You can all hate me and I'll live with that. But don't hate him and all these people in these rooms because I made a big mess of life this year. Don't refuse to help and find a cure for these people because you'd rather see Draco die and me suffer."

I realize that I'm really taking Draco's death as more of an inevitable fact than a threat, and I have to sit down in a chair. I hide my face in my hands and cry, weep, sob for I don't know how long. No-ones arms comfort me and nobody whispers calming things in my ears. I can tell that they are watching me but no one is moving to help.

"As a part of the Order of the Phoenix's goals...to fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, we will be working to find out what is the cause of this disease. The Healers say that it seems to be some form of a hex or a curse, and since it's probably connected to him we'll be putting all our time and effort for the next while into this."

Lupin's voice seems dead and void to my ears, but I breathe a little deeper and find my soul hurting a little less when he announces this. At least Draco has a fighting chance, at least he had help on its way.

I…well I have Draco.

"Thank you."

"This isn't for you Harry. You've let us down." Lupin replies in a colder tone than he ever used when reprimanding a student or when he was angry with Sirius. He really is disappointed in me.

"I can't change that I'm in love Professor. I can't throw it away. If I could do that I never would have trusted Draco in the first place."

Lupin sighs as though I am unbelievably stupid.

"You are an idol to some people Harry. You are a role model and-"

"I never wanted that! I never chose this as a life!"

"BUT IT'S WHAT YOU GOT!" he screams back at me, livid at my response. He rises from his chair and everyone's eyes follow his progress towards me. "You might not have wanted this fame but you've got it and you must deal with it! And you have to show the public a semblance of normalcy, a girlfriend, a wife, a family. They are counting on you Harry, you have a responsibility-"

"To what? Get married and have little Harry Potter's scurrying around to take my place once Voldemort has offed me? What the hell are you even talking about?"

"What are you going to do at school Harry? What will the professors think, how will the students treat you? We're in a war here and all you can think about is a _love_ that will cost you countless supporters." This comment comes from Mr. Weasley, shockingly angry at me in place of his normal fatherly comfort.

I shrugoff this question. "The teachers might push me a little harder, the students will make jokes and hurt me, but that's nothing new. I used to have Snape and Draco for that, I'm used to-"

"They'll ally against you Harry! You need all the support you can rally in this war and having a stupid teenage fling with the son of a Death Eater and a Slytherin is no way to do that! You haven't even thought past this month, this year, have you? The repercussions of this stupid escapade will affect you all the way down the road you know! You'll need a job-"

"If I survive through the next six months!"

Our verbal sparring match has rendered both of us on our feet, yelling back and forth until Hermione throws her hands up to silence us.

"Both of you, this isn't the time or place for this right now! We're all being stupid, we need to sit down and give ourselves time to think this all over."

"No Mione, I have something to say." Ron looks ready to punch me again when I say this to her, but she backs up beside him and doesn't say a word. Her glare is enough.

"Maybe you noticed, but I've had a terribly miserable life for the past few months. I am losing all that I care about through death, and I seem to be losing my mind in the process. And now, I've lost all you, and within a week I will have lost a whole lot of allies out in the Wizarding world. And with all this, I'm supposed to win a war against the most powerful wizard of our time. And the way things are going, I've got nobody to help me through that. Nobody to get me there, except now I have Draco. And I'm losing him, you can't possibly understand how hard…"

I bite my lip and stare down the hallway towards Draco's room, number one. I decide that every moment I can after this will be spent with him, until he is better. He's the one and only thing I am not willing to lose.

"You can't understand how unbelievably hard it is for me to trust somebody, to even allow myself the thought of falling in love with them, and then have to watch them get sick and die. Draco's dying, it's my fault, and if I lose him than I have nothing left. Nothing. I'm telling you now that if he goes I'm offing myself because I have nothing left to fight for against Voldemort if he's gone. Nothing, unless you all decide to allow me back into your lives sometime soon. So help me, just this once. I won't ask for your help ever again."

I leave them all sitting there, the mishmash of pale faces and red, brown and graying hair. I left Ron with his anger and Hermione with her confusion and everyone else with their varying degrees of hate for my stupidity. I don't care if they don't understand that I'm in love, or if they think I'm ruining my chances for recruiting people to our side because of my choices.

I slip into Draco's bubble world, the silent, softly glowing room a heaven in comparison to the hell of the lobby. I take a seat by his bed and let the tears go wild, not sobbing but crying silently for Draco. His hand is bruised where I crushed the bones, the fingers swollen black and blue and purple. His breathing is so soft that I scare myself that he's stopped breathing sometimes.

"Hey darling." He whispers, cracking an eye open to view me before closing it. "What happened? Why are you crying?"

"They know about us Drake…" I let this slip through my mouth before I think of what an awful thing to say it is to him, but I can't take it back.

"Well that's why I'm getting no other visitors in here then." He jokes and smiles tiredly, yawning slowly afterward. "I'm used to being unpopular, being alone is a specialty."

"They don't understand us…They'll still help to find out what this curse is though." Draco gives another tiny yawn.

"If you're tired you should sleep Draco. You need the rest."

Draco looks at me full on and I wipe the tears from my face and sniffle like I'm 5 years old. Even to have him sick, dying, on this hospital bed I feel one hundred times less beautiful than him now. I feel like having a tear stained face and runny nose are not proper enough for Draco. I feel like I'm not nearly good enough for him. Like he deserves a thousand times more.

"I'm afraid to sleep because I think that maybe I won't wake up and say goodbye to you. I'm so tired though."

His words are plain but they're truthful, painfully so. I whisper back to him, "Sleep Drake. I'll be right here while you're sleeping and when you wake up. This is not a goodbye, ok? It's a goodnight."

He barely nods before falling asleep, the lines of tension and pain in his forehead dissipated as the moments tick by. I allow my hand to wander to his hair and I push a single section off his forehead and to the side, barely brushing his skin while doing it. Here he is, my own personal angel, but I can't let him die and go where all the fake angels go. He is real, he is alive, and I need him.

"Love you Draco. I'm right here."

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**A/N: **THANK YOU TO: **Eleatie, ****Julia, ****Inuyasha Mistress,** **guitargurl227 ,** **relaxes,** **Moonlit Eyes,** **brionyjae,** **Arya, Shadeslayer , ****shorty-girly,** **karaluv , ****Mystiqal Neko,** **Megalicious Moony dybdahl , Alexa , **& **MimiTaylor! **

And, please, review!

mintapotter


	23. Box

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

**SLASH!** Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N: **Thank you's are at the bottom, and thats all!

Enjoy!

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**Chapter 23 - Box**

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Sometime after I fell asleep Harry must have slipped out, leaving me alone in the silent bubble of my hospital room when I awoke. Three different Healers all came to check on my separately, each asking the same obvious questions every time. _Are you in pain? Where does it hurt? Are you sleeping alright? Are you hungry? Thirsty?_

Every time the questioning became too monotonous I'd claim that I hadn't had a lot of sleep before they came in and would promptly pretend to sleep to get rid of them. They weren't getting anywhere with treatment, something I was more afraid of then the dying bit. I was afraid that maybe I'd be stuck like this forever, not dying and not living either. I'd be treated like a delicate doll, something to be seen but never touched.

I missed anyone treating me like a human anymore, and it had only been days since I'd fallen ill. Harry was the only one to talk to me like I was still a person and even he was becoming distant. He slipped in as the last Healer of the day slipped out, instantly plastering a smile on his stretched and sad face. His hand clutched something small so that I couldn't see what it was.

"Hey Drake. I meant to come back earlier but it takes forever to say anything to the Order now…half the time I'm talking with them they're all glaring at me without listening."

"Have you slept since you left?" Harry shrugs at my question, brushing off the idea that he too could become exhausted.

"I'm not tired really, I couldn't sleep right now if I tried. I'm working off caffeine and adrenaline, mostly. Every time someone has a theory about all this that might go somewhere, I get a rush and then…"

"You realize that this isn't curable and you crash right back down to being depressed again."

He stares at me and works his lips to retort a no, but stops himself when he too realizes that it's the truth. He sits slumped in the chair beside my bed, his shoulders and head stooped with an air of defeat. I want to hold him and hug him and tell him in a voice more than a whisper that everything will one day be fine. That we'll look back on this and laugh, that in days or weeks all of this will simply be a bad dream.

But I can barely whisper words to him without the sound ruining my ears and the effort hurting my throat. So I sit and let Harry slump in the chair, all alone.

"It's a gorgeous day outside by the way Drake. The suns shining finally, all it's been is drizzling rain since I can't remember when-"

"Stop it Harry. Stop."

His attempt at light conversation does nothing for me. I'm sick of being treated like I can't be told what's really happening all around me.

"I don't give a shit about the weather. I want to know how many other patients have died, I want to know what it is that I have, what the Order is doing about it, how you're holding up…don't baby me."

Harry bites his lip for a few moments, debating whether or not to tell me the whole truth. I can see him crack when he drops his head into his hands, his voice a low whisper of everything I don't really want to know.

"Four other patients have died Draco, four. They were all worse off than you when they came in, and the Healers can't do a damn thing for them. And for three of them, when they were in a lot of pain and obviously not going to make it the Healers just gave them the painkillers so that they'd have a few peaceful moments before they slipped off. They kill them with the drugs, but it gave them a chance the say goodbye."

Harry's voice is monotonous, tired. He's dealt with worse than this but he still has enough heart left in him to make this hurt.

"We don't know what it is. Best anyone can come up with is a curse that can be done at a long distance to a person, a curse that's makes you hypersensitive so that eventually, no matter what, you'll die. Dumbledore thinks that Voldemort's behind it and that he's using personal bits, like hair, to cast the curse. But since we don't know what it is exactly, we can't know the counter curse."

"The Order's working on this because I asked them too, and it's front page news now, all these people without a reason. They're trying right now to make a connection to everyone who's sick and Voldemort, but there's some people where there seems to be no reason at all. And I'm fucking tired Draco, I'm tired of all this. I want to sleep and wake up and have everything back to before. I want to be able to talk to Ron and Hermione, I want to live at the Place and not have everyone there hate me. I want to wake up and have you all better. That's how I'm doing."

"Thank you."

The silence that follows is broken only by the soft clicking noises as Harry pushes the buttons down on a little box that was hidden in his hand.

"What's that?"

Harry looks up and smiles dryly, handing me the box without hesitation.

"We found it in your old room at the Manor. It was hidden under a floorboard, and we think that whatever's inside of it was what Voldemort wanted out of your Mother. A secret, a code, a potion, anything really. I was hoping that you'd know what it was."

I contemplate this new thing, the box, with more interest than anything I was ever asked to decode at school. This little thing could possibly contain a clue that'll cure me. It could hold all kinds of secrets. It could be the cure, the answer…

"I've never seen it before Harry. If it was in my room it was put there by someone else, my parents or my ancestors. It's not mine but…can I have this? To try out? I have nothing else to do all fucking day, I'm bored to death."

Harry for a moment hesitates, his hands wringing each other.

"Well, we were researching it and you really shouldn't stay up over it, you should be resting and-"

"I'm sick Harry, not stupid! My mind is the one thing yet to go on me and if you're not offended, I do believe that I was always a little brighter at things like this than you were."

He nods, shaking his head at himself. "I know. I know that you're not stupid, you're the opposite. I know that, I'm sorry. You have it…it'll be the first step in getting back at Hermione and Ron if you crack it when they couldn't."

"Well if the prize for cracking it is their embarrassment, I just might do it."

Harry half laughs, standing to stretch before letting himself collapse back into the chair, his fingers raking the black hair that was already standing on end quite spectacularly.

"I didn't mean to mollycoddle you Drake. I'm sorry love."

"I know. Now go and find a flipping bed and sleep you idiot, before you trip over your own feet from exhaustion."

He smiles but doesn't leave.

"I'd rather be here with you, in this uncomfortable chair or on this floor, than in any bed here or at the Place, no matter how much more comfortable they are. I've been away from you enough. You're just going to have to put up with my snoring."

Instead of leaving he curls his legs up onto the chair and rests his face on his folded arms and knees. I remind him softly to remove his glasses first, which he folds and places at my bedside before falling asleep in his ridiculous position beside me.

"So," I mutter, more to the boxes endless lettered and numbered buttons than anyone else, "what's in you for me?"

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**A/N: **THANK YOU:

**YamiYama,** **DarkClaz,** **guitargurl227, ****MimiTaylor,** **Arya Shadeslayer, ****Julia ,****Megalicious Moony,** **brionyjae,** **Mystiqal Neko,** **Saimhe,** &** Crysania Fay!**

As another note: 1) I'm not telling you if Draco dies, because that's the whole point now, isn't it? and 2) I know the ending of this story, now it's simply a point of getting there.

Anyway, please keep reviewing!

Luv,

mintapotter


	24. Cracked

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

**SLASH!** Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N: **Thank you's are at the bottom, and I can feel this coming to a close...soon...ish.

Enjoy!

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Chapter 24 - Cracked

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"Draco?"

I can hear Harry's softly spoken words, I can register what they mean. I can feel his light breath against my cheek as his stands beside me, I can tell that he's just as excited as I am.

I've cracked the code.

"Draco y-you did it? Really it, it opens? You did it?"

He's too happy to speak coherently but I can't blame him. He's spent three tiring days putting up with the childish attitudes of the Order and their constant complaining that he chose to give me the box. He's also spent three nearly sleepless nights with me, getting only a few hours in on a cot laid out beside mine before he wakes with worry or stress. And all of that is for this, this tiny little seemingly meaningless box and what it contains.

"Yeah I was just messing around and it clicked. It just opened up and…here. Take it."

The bags under his still sparkling green eyes and the lines of stress don't seem so permanent when he smiles like he is now. He looks a little less like an old man, worn weary from his years and much more like the teenager he should be. I'm honored to be the only one to get him to smile in over a week.

Everything was worth it.

"What was the code?" he whispers this, still staring at the barely open box in awe.

"_Fragilis_. Latin for fragile. I've been trying all sorts of words that have something to do with the curse I have for days and that one just clicked it open. Sheer luck, really."

"You're a genius." He whispers, softer than before.

"I already knew that. Now open it before I get up and do it myself."

His hands move to do just that, but before he cracks the lid open any higher, he bites his lips and stops.

"No. I want to open it in front of everyone in the Order, and tell them that you figured it out. I want to see the looks on their faces when they find out it was you that did it."

This makes me crack a smile just at the thought, even though it hurts a little on my cracked lips.

"Very Slytherin of you. Just get them here quick, I'm dying to see what's in it and I'm frankly a little tired."

Harry frowns at the use of my word 'dying' but says nothing else, parting the room swiftly and leaving the box close to me still on my bedside table. My fingers are itching to take it and open it all the way, but they are also on the verge of bleeding from days of gently pressing down the lids buttons all these long days. I lay back further into the pillows behind me and sigh.

"You better have a cure in you, cause I've not got much left in me." I murmur to it, before closing my eyes for a little rest until the Order come to join me.

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Every time I walk down the hallway leading to and from Draco's room it's a jarring experience. Everything is multiplied exponentially; the volume, the brightness, the jarring motions of everyone's movements. I invariably feel for a few moments like I've got supersonic hearing and vision or something, and today I happen to walk by two Healers chatting not so quietly by the elevator doors.

"…another two this morning, one last night…"

"…just awful, I know. One of the Healers that's been examining them says they've all got only about a week left in them, tops. I wouldn't have hope left for more than a few days though…"

They only notice me after it's too late and move away, but the damage is already done. I slip into the elevator in silence and let it move me to the main floor, where I can find an empty room to slip into and let my shaking breaths calm down.

A week, tops? A few days?

"What do they know? Draco's been here the longest and he's still fine, just fine, they don't know who they're dealing with, he's stronger than that…"

I tell myself this all the time, thinking that it's true. Even if my heart believes it, that he'll be fine, my mind knows the statistics. They're not good, not promising. And I can keep telling myself that everything's fine and everything will get better, but my throats closing up and my eyes are watering and before long I'm sobbing alone into the jumper I've been wearing since the day before last.

Who am I kidding? Draco's strong, but he's not superhuman. I've only got so much time left on the clock to help him out, and every second I spend sleeping or eating or crying is time wasted. So I wipe away my tears and clear my glasses, brace my shoulders.

I'm going to go to the Place. I'll get everyone together, bring them in to see Draco, show them the box. Maybe it's the cure, the counter-curse. Maybe it's nothing at all; a decoy.

That last thought gives me a shiver up my spine that I have to ignore because my feet are carrying my back into the lobby, back towards the fireplaces that roar green with Floo powder.

It's not a decoy. It's an answer, it has to be. I will not lose another person to Voldemort, not this one.

Not Draco.

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As soon as the select group of the Order I have assembled is inside Draco's room, I want them out. I'm scared, genuinely, that one of them will do something stupid to hurt him. Purposely or not, a large group of people is never a good idea, so I want this over with quickly.

"Draco, you want to do it?"

He shakes his head no, his throat too scratched up to talk anymore. I nod and pry it open carefully, revealing a small slip of yellowed parchment inside it's red velvet chasm. I pull the parchment out, examining it slowly when Hermione pipes up.

"Well? What does it say?" she whispers, the tiny sound of it not sounding tiny enough to me. I glare at her, but read it out loud anyway.

"It's the instructions for a potion…it's really old, dark magic, most of this stuff is illegal and…I think it's the curse that everyone in here has."

The air in the room feels changed when I read this; everyone's ears seem a little more tuned to what I say. This is what the world has been waiting for; an answer.

"The potion uses parts of the person too, blood, hair…but it's supposed to kill them instantly. The life of the person is supposed to leave them and…go to the person who created to potion. It makes them stronger."

My stomach turns over uncomfortably when I realize this. I feel shaky enough to drop the sheet of parchment and box so I hand them over to Lupin and turn, finally, to see how Draco reacts to this.

His grey eyes won't meet mine; they're glued to the back of instructions that Lupin's now holding. He doesn't look like he's about to cry, or that he's defeated. He doesn't even look all that scared. But he's tired, I can tell. He's tired of fighting to stay awake, to talk, to live just another moment. He's running on fumes, and what I just said was a low blow.

"This is what Voldemort wanted, the proper way to brew the potion. The one he made was weaker, less effective. That's why so many people are still alive now. But," Lupin turns the sheet over to inspect it, then flips it back, "there's no counter curse listed here. And I've never seen something like this…maybe Snape can have a look at it and see what he comes up with."

I'm angry enough in that moment to scream at them all, but I control my anger with everything I have and quietly say, "Everyone, out. Now."

They comply silently, without argument. I turn to Drake but he won't look at me. I can feel the disappointment ringing around us in the air.

"I'm sorry love."

"I wasn't expecting a miracle. Just get out there and figure it out, alright? I could use any help I can get right now."

I leave before the urge to grab him and kiss him takes over, walking almost directly into Ron outside Draco's room's door.

"Are you actually kidding me when you say that you want to give this to Snape?"

"No, and who else is better suited to brew the counter curse to this potion than him? He's undisputed as one of the worlds best Harry."

Lupin's voice is so loud in my ears, so grating. I wish that I could stay inside the quiet, calm bubble of Draco's room, but I always end up back in the hell just outside his door.

"He's also part of Voldemort's inner circle. Perhaps no one else has noticed that I'm not sick right now? It's either because the Dark Lord has no personal bits of me, like hair and blood, or he's just waiting it out to get his hands on the correct brewing instructions for this potion. So maybe giving it to Snape isn't such a grand idea in the beginning. Voldemort obviously does not have my blood because none of you would hand it over to him so-"

"You're wrong on that one Harry." Ron cuts in, his face spectacularly pale and scared. "Fourth year. He already has your blood in him."

I feel so sick that I let myself slide down the walls length, the too loud voices of everyone surrounding me swimming in my mind. I can't concentrate, I can't think. This is too much, much too much. My bloods already in his veins, he doesn't even need mine anymore. I'm a timebomb just waiting to be infected with this awful curse. I've been one since the very beginning.

"Harry?" I think that's Dumbledore talking, but my eyes are closed and I won't open them for him. I don't care enough to open them for him. "You must agree now that this has to be shown to Snape. He alone could brew the counter curse and save everyone in here. It may be Draco's only chance."

Guilting me into it? Using Draco as bait? Where is this all fair? What kind of nightmare have I been sucked into?

"So you mean to tell me…that Voldemort's had my blood all this time, so he's always been able to brew this potion, even the faulty one. And he only been waiting to get the better version of the potion. And I'm expected to give those exact instructions to someone in his inner circle or Draco and everyone else in here will die. That's what you're telling me?"

"They are going to die soon anyway Harry. This is the only plausible way of saving any of them."

Silence. It's a bad sign considering the people around me, but they're all waiting with baited breath on whether or not I should do this. Trust Snape, the slimy git.

"So it's me dying…or Draco, huh? Give the potion to Snape straightaway."

I open my eyes and look up, watch Dumbledore and Lupin share a look. Hermione blabbers something about how that's not how it is, Ron looks about to be sick. Ginny's no where to be seen, the rest of the Weasley's are absent as well.

"Snape is not going to give this to…him…Harry, he's on our side-" Hermione's voice finally connects in my brain but I silence her with a wave of my hand.

"If he does, then I die, and Draco dies, and everyone else in the fucking wizarding world will too. And if he doesn't and Draco lives then maybe I'll have something worth fighting Voldemort for at all. So maybe you should run off and give the git the potion, but keep a careful eye that he's not slipping secrets to anyone else."

Lupin finally leaves with the parchment folded into his hand. Dumbledore stares at me a bit, his eyes feeling as though they're penetrating right through my skull. He leaves eventually too, after Hermione drags Ron off to the loos to throw up, probably. I manage to crawl back into Draco's room, exhausted and dirty, hungry, angry, sad, worried, stressed all at the same time. He cracks an eye open to look at me before dropping it closed.

"How'd it go out there?"

I swallow deeply, the lump in my throat not disappearing but growing larger.

"They're coming up with a plan. Things will be fine. I promise."

I turn on the jets of hot water in his bathroom, ready to take a well needed shower and then a long, long sleep. I ask Draco how he's feeling before stepping back into the bathroom, but he's already long gone and fastly asleep. I step into the scalding water and let it soothe me a little, clean me of the past three days. I stand and let it massage my back and cry until the water runs nearly cold, my skin burning from the sudden change in temperature. I don't care. Nothing can hurt me now but that curse, so what will this momentary pain be in the long run?

Everything, everything is out of my hands now. All I can do is sit back and wait, for one way or the other.

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**A/N: **Alrighty, thank you (immensly) to:

**ravendreamer04, RavennBeastboy, Dark-lighter0405, Megalicious Moony, deessedumer, sigillum mysteriorum 13, Julia,  
YamiYama, brionyjae, guitargurl227, DarkClaz, sparkley-tangerine,** &** MimiTaylor** !

I finally figured out how I'd end this and it's such a relief to have everything planned. Now it's just a matter of getting it down on the computer, and from there, who knows! Please keep reviewing, (tons of love)

mintapotter


	25. War

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author:** mintapotter

**Overview:** Harry's seeing and hearing things he's not supposed to, and the unseen consequences could be higher then anyone expected.

**SLASH!** Guy/Guys! If you no likee, you no readee.

**A/N: **Thank you's are at the bottom, and we're getting close to the end...sniff...

Enjoy!

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**Chapter 25 - War**

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"...having some troubles getting the powdered hawthorn leaves, but apparently Mundungus has a …Harry? Have you heard a word I've just said?"

No, in truth I have not. I have sat at this kitchen table and let my mind wander and my eyes close ever so slightly. I'm in no position to be told things and expected to remember them, but that seems to be what everyone wants me to do.

"Yes. I'm listening but I'm also just…thinking."

A silence follows this last statement as though thinking is some completely foreign concept for me to be attempting. I take the quiet as an opportunity to finally say what's been on my mind for so long.

"We already know that the infected in the hospital only have days, maybe a week left, so time is of the essence. So that's why everyone's putting their effort into this, into helping out with the counter potions brewing. But I'm still not sick, so Voldemort obviously won't attack me with it. Not even with the proper one. And with my blood in him, we'd both end up getting hurt by the potion so it would do him no good at all. But I've been thinking that…if Voldemort's not alive to get all the infected peoples life-force from them, would that release them from the potion? Would that be enough to keep them alive?"

The silence this time is interrupted by a tired laugh from Lupin.

"If saving the lives of just those people is all the motivation you need to kill Voldemort, than this should have happened sooner." Hermione and Ginny both give shocked gasps at this comment, but the others seated at the table remain silent.

"I know that that's harsh, but it's also true Harry. You make it sound as though Voldemort is just this simple obstacle that you have to get rid of to solve the problem-"

"And that's all he is to me now. An obstacle I have to be rid of to save the lives of all the infected people."

I only added _especially Draco_ in my head because now was no time to rehash all the old grumblings about the two of us. If I needed to fight with the few people I considered allies, I'd do it after the nightmare was over.

"It's not as simple as just walking right up to him Harry." Ron's murmur almost went unnoticed, but I picked it up as I rarely heard words directed at me from his mouth any more.

"I think that it is. All these years I've been drawn into his traps, on his terms and then forced to fight just to get out of them alive. Maybe it's about time that we fight him on our terms, on our soil, and turn the tables around. Maybe it's about time that we stop thinking of his defeat as some long off thing, and as something we could accomplish _now._"

Shaking heads and disbelieving faces were about enough to drive me into a rage. They all spoke as though they'd be right there alongside me to fight Voldemort, and when I mentioned it they all shied away from the idea. They, these Gryffindor's were being the biggest cowards I'd seen in years.

"Even if we knew where he is right now Harry, it wouldn't be easy." Tonks' normally chirpy voice was suddenly all business, no laughter left within it.

"I never said that is would be." I barely whispered this back, my anger teetering towards making me explode at their reluctance any moment now.

"And there's simply not enough time, we can't assemble everyone we'd need in hours and days, and make a plan that would work! And if we ran out of time and everyone in the hospital died-"

"Then I wouldn't have much of a fucking reason left to fight Voldemort at all!"

I barely noticed the raising of volume in my voice, or the fact that I was suddenly standing up instead of sitting down. I needed to make my point very clear, very quickly.

"Listen, let's stop sidestepping the issue. I've been seeing all sorts of weird things lately, and the only truly great thing that has come out of them is Draco, alright? I got the chance to save him from a hell, and now he's the only thing keeping me going at all. And I am _tired_ and I am _sick_ of all Voldemort's manipulations on my life. I want to be free of him, I want to sleep without fear again, I want peace, and I want it _now_. I am going to get the people who really want to help me to help, and those who don't want any part in this might as well leave now. I am not fighting him in five or ten years because by then we'd have run out of time to save the one thing I love most of all in this world, and that's Draco. So I am going to go and spend quite possibly the last hour I will ever share with him, and you can all fucking figure out what you're doing with yourselves in the meantime. When I get back here, I want those who are ready to help to be here, and I want those who choose to leave to simply be gone. You've all got an hour to decide."

I ignored to steady throbbing of a headache and tears in my head, and the jelly-like feeling that had replaced the solidness of bones in my legs. I walked myself to the Floo in the Place, took a pinch and whirled myself back to St. Mungo's before I let myself really _breathe_ again properly.

I was finally alright with going something alone. I could get back to the Place and no one would be there, and I would keep fighting all by myself. Some would surely call it stupidity, or the blind rampage of love, but I was very, very far from caring anymore.

This was my choice, and I was making it now for one person and one person only.

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I spent an unnaturally long time in the antechamber leading to Draco's room this time, making for sure that all the dust and possible irritants were gone from me by the time I was at his side. This was no time to take risks, most especially stupid and avoidable ones.

It was exactly eleven o clock in the morning outside the room, and I had one hour to say everything I had to Draco. One hour, that was all.

I took a deep breath and settled beside his bed, content for a moment to simply watch him sleeping. The rhythmic rising and falling of his chest was a simple comfort to me that he was still with me, but it was becoming a smaller comfort everyday. His breaths now were longer and further in-between, drawn out as though each one was a burden. It was one thing that never failed to make my throat itch and my eyes water. It wasn't fair.

It was the first time in days that I let myself really _see_ Draco. He was pallid, sickly so. The darkness around his eyes had spread all around them, and the blue veins crisscrossing under his parchment dry skin seemed more pronounced than ever before. Even the tiniest of nicks and scratches still stood a defiant scarlet against his skin, never healing, always bleeding and radiating pain.

"Drake? Can you wake up for me, please?" I whispered so low that it sounded almost only like breathing to my ears, but his eyes fluttered open at the words, a tiny smile pulling at the edges of his lips.

"What's going on?" he mouthed, his eyes falling to half mast as though the subtle light in the room was too bright for him. Everything about him hurt, and I wished more then than ever before that I can take a bit of that pain from him to ease it.

"The Order and I are making plans to fix this…" my throat hitched on the words, but I kept talking, "Snape's trying to brew a counter potion to the one used on you, and we're also preparing to fight if we have to. But we have so little time to plan it and prepare that…I don't think I can come back to visit until it's done. I'll have to go away for a while."

Draco's smile finally became a half-hearted one, and for the first time in a long while his own eyes were the ones leaking tears. It hurt me more than words can explain that I couldn't even reach out and brush them away for fear of hurting him. I was captive to this disease too, in that I was to watch the suffering and not be able to help unless I caused some suffering too. It was too much.

"I knew that you'd have to but… I'll be waiting for you when you get back. Whenever you're done, I'll be here waiting for good news."

I had to turn away then and cover my mouth with a shaking hand to keep from sobbing too loudly. I choked it back but let the tears fall from eyes, because there was no way for me to stop them now.

"If I didn't have to go then I wouldn't, I'd stay here if I could but…this is our only chance."

"I know."

"And I'll try…I will win Draco, just for you. I promise. I'll bring back good news."

Draco breathed out slowly before rasping out a few more words to this. "But realistically…I might not be able to hold out much longer Harry."

"Don't say that…" I whispered this back wanting to believe that no matter what, I'd win and Draco would live. But there was still that niggling chance, that something, somewhere, would go wrong.

"It's true. And if I'm not around when I get back then…well I love you."

"I know. I love you too."

"And I suppose I'm sorry that we never got around to much fooling around and having fun, now did we? Wish that we'd given that more time when we'd had it."

His eyes finally closed, although he wasn't sleeping and my heart jumped with a tiny bit of laughter even though my face couldn't manage even a smile now. I could taste the salt of my streaming tears in my mouth, but the muscles surrounding it couldn't force a smile now. I doubted that they would until I saw Draco again.

"Think of it as something good to look forward to for later, how about? We'll have years to make up for lost time." My voice is joking, but my eyes are still crying. This is hard, harder than it had any right to be.

"Truly though Harry, don't do anything stupid. I want you back in one piece, and not traumatized by doing something awful just for me…be safe, love."

"I will. And I promise to be back Draco; you just have to hold out a little longer. We'll be together in twenty years and shiver when we think about this, but we'll still be together. Think of that, that we'll get through this. Both of us."

A long pause followed this, and I knew that it was almost time for me to leave, though every molecule in my body screamed against leaving this bedside, or this room at all.

"I know you have to go so…be safe. I love you too much to lose you now."

"Same here. Love you."

I stood to leave, watching Draco's breathing slow again until he was truly asleep, and then blew him the kiss I had wanted to plant on his head before turning around and leaving St. Mungo's without once looking back.

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I could almost feel the little bit of my soul that was devoted only to Draco as a hardened thing in my body. It was resolute, was tough and unrelenting. It wanted me to move and take action and get back to Draco as soon as possible.

And it ached for every ounce of help I could squeeze out of other people.

I walked back into the Place not a moment after noon, dusting ash off my robes as I entered the completely empty kitchen. A knot developed quickly in my stomach, the feeling of loneliness and desertment roiling over and over.

Thankfully, I had no room left in my body or mind for those feelings anymore. I would not cry, and I wouldn't seek people out and beg. I would keep going until my task was done, with or without any backup.

I walked up the stairs towards the main floor of the house listening only to the muffled sounds of my feet on the stone, watching only the dust raise in the air around me and sting my eyes.

I was thinking on the task ahead, not dwelling on the past.

And then the sound of muffled talking pulled at my senses, making me think twice about being so alone in the house after all. It could be another vision, it could be an intruder…

I pushed open the doors to the main front room of the Place, and was greeted by the relentless stares of dozens of people.

Every, single, member of the Order of the Phoenix was there, and some who weren't involved either. Lupin was there even though he disapproved of Draco. Ron was there even through his anger or being lied to. Snape was there, even though he should be brewing the potion. Every living Weasley in the clan was there, save their departed Mother and Percy. Dumbledore, Tonks, Kingsley…Faces I barely recognized as members were peppered in too…

"So we're all on the same page then?" I asked, my voice stronger and more commanding a presence than it was just an hour ago. It sounded like it was coming from a different person completely. Perhaps I was a bit of a different person now… a person with a purpose.

"We're here with you and for you Harry. Tell us where to begin, and we will." Mr. Weasley said this in low tones, and the slightly bowed head of everyone in the room proved that they were indeed here to follow me.

"We are going to _fight_."

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**A/N: **REALLY BIG THANK YOU TO: **Serpent,** **MimiTaylor,** **smoky blue blossoms, ****YamiYama,** **guitargurl227, ****Alexa82, ****brionyjae,** **Julia, sparkley-tangerine,** &** iamanevilgenius!**

I'm slow at writing, but it's nearing the end and I need time to think. PLEASE KEEP REVIEWING and TONS OF LOVE

mintapotter


	26. Anguish

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author: **mintapotter

**A/N: **This chapter goes out to **txcalbud, **who's name I cannot very well pronounce out loud but whom I always love to see a review from! And to everyone, please enjoy this and drop me a line at the end.

Here we go...

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Chapter 26 - Anguish

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The game plan was so simple it hurt; offensive.

After that we had to fill in the blanks about the when, where, who and most importantly how. We already had a why; for all the dead and dying caused by Voldemort. The why was that he had to pay for everything he had done to us.

Everyone in the Order who was fighting beside me had been touched by a death somehow, no-one was immune to it. I had lost my parents and godfather just as the Weasley's had recently lost their Mother. People remembered a cousin, an aunt, their grandparents or best friends being killed in cold blood during the First War.

I however was in a fever and a killing mood. I had come to terms with the deaths of my past but I had just one, last person to save before all was said and done.

_Draco._

Even thinking about him makes it hard to see because all I ever want to do is sit down and cry. If I hadn't interfered with his life than he probably wouldn't be dying right now. But if I hadn't pushed him out of the way all those weeks ago in Diagon Alley than we would have never had the chance to properly fall in love.

And if I hadn't been so wrapped up in myself for so long than maybe I could have visited him more often, or listened to what he was really saying better. I feel now like every second I spent alone since the point that we have been together was a second wasted.

I wish like nothing else that my life was simple and orderly and easy. I wish that we could fall in love and live together and have a normal, simple life. Nothing sounds better to my ears than blissful domesticity. It's all I can hope and dream and pray that maybe one day, we will have.

_We can share a real life together._

But every minute that ticks by is another strike on my conscious, because Draco is very much so dying, and slowly but surely he will simply die and not come back. That's the part that hurts so much now, the part where after he dies I can't just bring him back from the dead.

So we are moving planning, putting things immediately into motion. Our people inside the Ministry are preparing from the inside out for a trap that Voldemort can't refuse to walk into, or escape. This will be the fight to end fights, the last battle. I want everything, if possible, to end.

And the only outcome that I could live with is Voldemort dying and Draco living. The end. Even if I don't make it, at least I will have died with some sort of purpose, which is more than I can say about the majority of my life.

Of course, I'd prefer to stick around long enough to spend just one more minute with him healthy and beaming that beautiful smile again but…

I won't ask for much. I just need this battle done and gone with by tonight, or else I won't have a reason to fight anymore.

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The Cruciatus has nothing over this.

That curse hurt, it felt as though your insides were being pulled out and your very bones were being ripped through your skin.

But that curse stopped, at some point. It always had an end in sight.

This, was forever worse.

_Breathing_, hurt, for fuck sakes. Looking at anything now caused a headache that made me nauseous, which would force me to either throw up food that wasn't there or not eat for another few hours. I am starving, and can't look at or smell or taste food without something going terribly wrong. Everything is sore, every tiny cut or scrape is still bleeding blood that won't clot. Every bruise only grows and becomes more tender to every tiny touch. There isn't a moment of relief, as sleep is now something that refuses to come for me.

_I will give almost anything, anything, if someone could just make this stop. Please, anything._

I want to say the words out loud but the work makes my throat raw and bloody, and it isn't worth it to plead with the Healers. There's nothing that they can do…

Well, I know that they gave pain potions to the patients that were so far gone that it was more humane to let them die after a few minutes of peace. I won't take the potion though, not unless Harry comes back and there's no chance that I could live through this and have a normal life.

_I'll only take it if the last few minutes are with Harry. No one will make me take it before then. No one._

Staying alive however was fast becoming a burden that didn't quite seem worth it.

And then, there was always Harry. He promised that he would come back with good news. He promised another visit, and that wasn't something said lightly.

He'll be back, I could count on nothing if not that. He would be back for me and this would all end.

Just one more breath in an out, one more second of waiting.

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"Ron, Hermione, come here. Please."

For all I knew, these were my last few peaceful minutes on earth, and if I could get through a goodbye with Draco I could sure as hell do it with Ron and Hermione. I pulled them into a quiet alcove where no-one else was currently hiding or discussing the plot over one more time. I need just a few spare moments to tell them everything I needed to, and this was all I was ever going to get, it seemed.

I never thought it would be quite this hard to get the words out though.

"I wanted to thank you guys for everything, since first year-"

"Harry, mate, don't do this. Not now." Ron's voice was for the first time quiet and the same tone of caring it had been all these past few years. It seemed that as the last few moments before the fight begun were progressing, his grudge against me had been lifted. I was thankful for that, for some reason. It felt as though a weight had been lifted from my chest and allowed me to breathe easier.

"I need to. I want to thank both of you for everything, for sticking by me and being here tonight. I want to say sorry for not telling you about things earlier, and I want to apologize about your Mum Ron."

Ron hung his head low for a moment, his face shadowed and impossible to read in the faintness of the Atrium at night. His head finally raised from its bowed position to look me in the eyes.

_He doesn't blame me._

"Thank you Harry, but it wasn't your fault. It was whoever shot the curse in the first place and I can only hope that they'll show up here tonight."

I could only nod my agreement at that, choking on the other emotions running wild beneath the surface of my skull.

"And to both of you, I want to really say goodbye because living past tonight is not something that I expect to happen."

"Don't talk like that Harry." Hermione's voice was edged with warning, her thick haired pulled back severely from her face, making her seem twice as serious. "You can't go into a fight thinking that you'll lose or you'll never win it."

I laughed a little at this, maybe just to relieve the tension filling my lungs with lead. "I think that I'll win tonight Hermione, because I have to, for everyone. I just don't expect to live through it all."

She could only nod at this, both her and Ron paling at my frank talk about death. This shouldn't be any surprise to them, not now.

"I want to tell you that in the event that I die, I need you two to tell Draco that I'm sorry I couldn't bring him better news myself. I need to make sure that at least he'll live-"

"Why must you bring him up Harry?" Ron's venomous voice was the last straw in our tenuous accord for peace.

"Listen, Ron. Do you love Hermione?"

He nodded curtly, taking only a tiny glance over at Hermione.

"Would you want me to tell her that you loved her if you died here tonight? Would you like me to offer her some kind of solace about you?"

"Yes, but-"

"Well Draco and I are exactly the same thing and if you can't accept that than just leave now, because I can't take it! I love him and he is dying right now, and that is the single, most important reason that I am so fine with simply dying here tonight! Because of all things on this earth, to me he is worth dying _for!_ Now do you understand that?"

A silence so thick that I felt like I was drowning in it swallowed the both of them, before Ron shook his head slowly.

"I can't understand why Draco Malfoy has to be your choice, but I can accept it. I don't like it and maybe I never will but can at least understand that he means something to you and if he means something to you than…if you don't make it, we'll be there for him. For anything, no matter what happens. I promise, Harry." He whispered the last part so quietly I almost missed it, but it was there and he meant it. All I could do was murmur 'Thank you' to the both of them and hug them one last time, before standing back and preparing myself for one last stand.

"This is it guys, and I'm happy that it's you two standing at my back. Let's do this."

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Never in my life had my mind been so closely smashed into my base instincts.

_Duck. Dodge. Attack._

Their was no spare moment for thinking, just muscle reflexes and basic movement.

_Keep moving. Breathe, in, out._

Simple. Obscenely simple.

I have to be the first one to fire a spell every time or I die. Simple.

Flashes of red hair were always at the corner of my vision, but I could never turn to see which Weasley was attacking or being attacked each time. I heard a small scream that sounded hauntingly like Hermione, but I could do nothing but bite back the urge to find our where it came from. I didn't have the time to do that, I could check on everyone once this was done.

_Oh, fuck. Scream._

Something burning was searing through the shirt on my back, burning and blistering the skin beneath. I turned and stared into the deeply hooded of eyes of one person I had always wanted to kill.

Bellatrix.

"Oh, Potter, baby, does that sting? Maybe your little blond baby can come and heal that up for you, if the rumors are true." The burning forced a scream from me, but I bit back the next one that tore up through my throat. I could smell my own flesh burning, and the acridness of it almost made me vomit, but I only just barely held it in. She smiled her foulest smile at my scream, and that wasn't allowed.

"That is, little Malfoy _would_ heal you up were he in any condition to do so. The brat's already dead-"

"_Avada Kedavra."_

My words were forced from somewhere deep inside me, the same place that all screams come from. It was a place of pain and rage and sorrow and anger and bubbling fury all at once.

It was my love for Draco. No one would talk down to Draco, no one. Not my friends, not the people who were my only family, and defiantly not my enemies. Bella's lifeless, limp body should be a stark reminder of what would happen when you started talking badly about Draco in front of me anymore.

And then in a ragged breath I drew in, a realized a few things. The burning spell had stopped the moment that Bellatrix had had the lights knocked from behind her eyes, but it still hurt intolerably. And she had said something, something I wouldn't believe-

_The brat's already dead-_

"She didn't mean it. It isn't true. It can't be." I could hear myself mumbling the words and turning just for the briefest moment away from the battle raging behind me. I needed just a moment, just a second to get a hold of myself.

"It is _not_ true. Keep fighting, keep going. Draco is alive. He will only stay that way if you keep _moving_."

And so I did. I turned and scanned the Atrium, if only to get a bearing of where I was again. I could see fights both big and small being fought all around, only half of them including people I recognized. Some people were dead, littering the ground; I didn't allow myself to glance at the floor. I couldn't even really tell who was winning against whom.

I dodged out of the way of some blood red curse just in time, and fired a full body bind in the general direction of whomever had cast it at me. Some boy, not quite much older than me tumbled towards the floor when my curse connected, the blackness of the Dark Mark on his skin burning my eyes with its ugliness.

He would be dealt with later, in trials and punishments to be doled out by the government. He was no longer a threat or any major problem.

And then there was a ghostly snatch of white blond hair off to the edge of my vision, just a little behind me and to the left. It could only mean one thing; Lucius Malfoy had arrived.

And anger isn't the word for it. _Rage_ is the only term which quite covers my endearment of Lucius had done to me, and Draco, over the years.

If I could kill Bellatix with one curse that I couldn't have fired last year, Lucius was in for it. There was no amount of pain and suffering that he could endure that would be too much, and I would only be so happy to be the one cursing him to tears.

I turned so acutely on my heel that he would never have time to react to the curse blossoming on my lips.

"_Cruci-"_

"Harry?" His small voice asked it like a question, as though he wasn't sure if _I_ was the one he was really looking at.

I stumbled while walking and fell to the floor, my hands scraped from the grit of the floor, but the feeling woke me up. My words stopped. My heart stopped. Everything in the world came to a grinding, crashing halt in that one, single, moment. Those tones were no one else's but the person whom I was fighting for.

_Draco?_

Draco was here, not his Father. Draco was out of bed, Draco was all right, Draco was here to fight and-

Draco's eyes were missing the glinting grey of shined metal, or forged steel.

Draco's eyes were white.

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**A/N: **HAHAHAHA! How's THAT for a cliffy! (oh, I feel so deliciously evil right now...) And here's my THANK YOU to those of you who did:

**MimiTaylor, brionyjae, Julia, Raping Time, Mystiqal Neko, txcalbud, & sparkley-tangerine**!

Please keep reviewing, and I'll see you next time.

Mintapotter


	27. Death

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author: **mintapotter

**A/N: **In writing this chapter, I realize that a lot of people might not quite understand my ramblings of what is going on, or like where this story has gone. To those people; I'm sorry in advance, but please still drop me a review. For those of you who like it though, such as the beautiful **Julia** (keep reading fanfics, honey!), drop me a line at the end because there aren't many chapters left in this story.

Enjoy the ending (it's your dessert for sticking around so long)

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Chapter 27 - Death

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"Harry? I've been looking all over for you and-"

"Draco…what are you doing here?"

My words were whispered and rasped, my eyes stinging and my back burning and I think that for a moment there I could even feel my soul burning with something. Maybe it was another form of rage, a rage at Voldemort for having turned Draco into one of the white-eyed apparitions that had haunted me for so long.

Maybe the choking feeling my lungs were having was sorrow.

_Maybe Draco's not dead. Last time he came to me like this, it was another ghost trying to get me to listen. Before that, it was a warning so that I could save him. He's _not_ dead._

Draco smiled brightly, completely and utterly unaware of the people in the Atrium, the noise and fervor raging just behind him. He smiled and sat beside me, his milk white eyes scanning everything and nothing at the same time.

"I've been wondering where you were for a little while now and it's harder than you think to find people when-"

"Draco. Listen to me. Do you remember that you're very, very sick right now?"

He sat in silence and stared for a moment, then slowly shook his head 'no'.

"Well you are, and you're actually in St. Mungo's right now, and the fact that you're also here talking to me is a very, very bad thing. I need you to go back there and-"

"I remember now."

He spoke solemnly, perhaps catching up to his memories all at once. He turned away from me and I took the chance to wipe tears that were streaming unbridled down my cheeks, because this was no time for crying. That would come later, much later.

"I don't want to go back there. It's pain there, only pain. And here I'm with you. This is so much better, I'm happier here and I'd rather stay like this here than go back to being what I have been…there."

I opened my mouth to talk, and a sob somehow escaped my careful control over myself. Draco's features twisted instantly into worry for me, his cold hands caressing mine and leaving the feeling of only spiderwebs behind.

_Not warmth. Just cold, dead spiderwebs clinging to your skin. If you want a real warmth, with Draco later you have to get this one to leave and return to the other._

"What's wrong, Harry? Why are you crying?"

I swallowed some of the emotion and tucked it away, saving it for when I had the time and place to dispense it.

"The fact that I can see you, like this right now, means that somewhere else your body is dead or dying, and I can't live with that. It might be nice to get away from the pain for a while, and to be here with me now, but I want a life with you Draco so I need you alive and well to share it. You have to go back. You have to go back _now_."

The look of worry on Draco's conspicuously perfect and blank face turned to one of dawning comprehension.

"I'll go then, if I get to spend time like this for the rest of my life and not just for right now. Please keep safe Harry, you're all I've got. And don't take so long…I don't think I've got a whole lot of time left."

With that he rubbed the wet streaks from my face with the soft caress of his thumbs, and gave me the most surreal, fleeting kiss I had ever known. It tingled like a gust of cold air and it lingered not unlike the feeling of pins and needles. And then in an instant, like all the things before him he disappeared into the air before me, and left no trace but the feeling on my lips.

It was perfect, quintessentially. It was Draco.

But it wasn't truly real, and it wasn't enough.

_I'm here to fight for _that_, so that we can kiss again one day properly and not have to worry of think of the world at large. I just have to win soon, so that the apparition Draco isn't the only one I will ever see again._

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"Please no, please, don't…"

I could hear a pleading voice, the voice of a man that I had never known and never would know. He was kneeling before a man swathed in blackened robes who was smiling cruelly down at him. I turned just in time to watch Voldemort flick his wand almost lazily at his face and intone the words that would kill him instantaneously. I watched the green light with a morbid fascination, my mind and eyes much too filled with horror to properly register just how awful and disgusting killing still was.

I was becoming more and more desensitized by the second.

But I was still, somewhere, human.

The fighting had dulled because so many of the fighters were too wounded or dead to continue fighting. The Atrium was darkened because the lighting charms had been disrupted and were flickering oddly, only in some places. The floors were mostly rubble, the beautiful ceiling black.

_And I…I don't know what condition I'm in anymore._

My back was blistered and burnt, aching and searing with pain at every twist. My eyes stung from smoke that blackened the air, my whole body ached from dodging spells and landing in gravel or on huge rugged chunks of the floors.

I was battered, but I was whole.

And right now, I was the only thing that Voldemort was focused on. He stared at me as I stared back at him, repulsed at everything he was, and everything he stood for. It seemed that everyone around us had stopped fighting, momentarily. The Death Eaters watched their master, forming a loose and wide circle around us. The Order stepped back, taking this time to pull the hurt away and apparate to safety somewhere else. I could see Ron and Hermione hovering by a wall further back though, each holding the others hand and simply staring at awe.

_This is the moment where the world begins anew or ends altogether. _

"And so it ends, Harry. You will not be leaving here today, not even in a single piece."

I smiled, shrugged, and swung my wand in front of my face and dropped it on the ground.

Voldemort did a shameful simile of a smirk, and dropped his as well.

"Touché, Potter. It would be harmful to try and reenact the scene we created after the Triwizard Tournament. No wands allowed, no allies and friends. You and I, and the stronger will leave here tonight victorious."

I bowed before he could ask me to, all the time dredging up old memories that I tried to forget because they made me too sad, or too angry.

_I need that sorrow and that rage, now, to win this. I need every last weapon I can get. This is it, this is the last stand and then I can have that normal life I've always wanted. But I need to remember properly everything that has happened before now, to be able to leave it behind. In the past, where it belongs._

It's scary how many memories there were to prey on, stuffed away in the corners of my mind.

_My parents death, Voldemort in Quirrel's head, me killing Quirell, Triwizard Cup and Cedric's death, Sirius' death, Molly Weasley's death._

_Draco dying._

And those thoughts and the pure bubbling rage they created and consumed me in, was enough.

So I'm told.

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The battle was spectacular, apparently. I remember dredging up memories, dropping my wand to the ground and then…nothing. Just snippets of this and that from everyone, everyone trying to jog my memory.

I blanked out. It was the only way I could kill, properly kill the old bastard. I waited my entire life for the moment where I would strike him down, and I can't even remember it.

_Just my luck._

Hermione tells me that I strangled him with my bare hands, and for all the wandless magic we were pouring out to try and fight each other back with, nothing Voldemort could do could stop my hands from wringing his throat. My thumbs pressed so deep that I broke something in his throat, and my knees and weight forced his ribs to cave in. His Death Eaters couldn't get through our magic in time to save him, and the Order was quick to finish them off in the meantime, and try their best to round them up.

Most of them up, that is. A number are still out roaming the streets or Apparating far, far away now. They are all unequivocally mad now, and more dangerous than ever. They will go for their last revenge tonight, and there will be killing. Someone in the crowd is asking if I'll go after them, to try and kill them too.

_Why am I here again?_

I can't think straight enough to think. I can't talk, I can't move, and worst of all I can't remember what that nagging feeling is at the back of my mind, that I should be somewhere else right now.

Right now, I am in what is left of the ruins of the Ministry of Magic. Voldemort is dead; his body is a withered mass on the floor, a gaggle of rotting flesh and decaying bone.

_His body was long dead, and only his spirit was holding it together. He's really gone now, for good._

_Please._

And even though I strangled him I finally register that I collapsed far away from him before I woke up to my senses again, and my hands are bloody. Disgustingly reddened and dripping. The blood smells foul and looks darker than real blood though. And the drips never touch the floor; they disappear before they hit it. And it won't smear when I touch it to the rubble beneath me.

_This is just my mind representing his blood on my hands. This isn't real, this blood isn't real. Voldemort is dead, and I need to remember something else, there is something-_

_Draco._

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For all Ron and I patiently try and wake Harry from his stupor, nothing seems to be working. He sat for so many minutes in silence, staring at nothing, hearing nothing, seeing nothing. He came out of his trance for no reason at all it seems, and I am determined not to let him go back to such a disconnected place.

"Harry? Are you listening to a word that I'm telling you?"

He continues to stare at his hands, turning them over and over again as though something new will show up every time. He rubs them on the ground as though wiping the slime of Voldemort's skin away from him, and only a small bit of my can understand where his mind is right now. Harry has such an odd view of the world, seeing things that we'll never dream of seeing and right now he's stuck there and can't connect with the real one staring him in the face.

"HARRY! We have things that we have to _deal_ with here, wake up-"

And he does.

The blank look finally leaves his eyes, and his hands stopping stroking the stone floors. He has the air of someone who has just finally remembered a long lost name, and is about to shriek their revelation to the world. Only instead of telling us what it is that he remembered he stands up suddenly, and Apparates away.

"HARRY!"

"Hermione, calm down-" Ron tries to hold me back from scratching at the thin air where Harry was only a moment ago standing, but I can't help screaming with anger at him.

"I CAN'T CALM DOWN, RON!" I turn on him and screech, as he retreats somewhere in his mind and blankly allows me to. "He's just killed V-Voldemort, for fucks sakes and then he blanks out and ups and LEAVES! He could be ANYWHERE, and in his goddamn state of mind he could do ANYTHING and-"

"Mione. Listen. We already know where he is, and what he's doing. Calm. Down." He barely has to whisper to cut into my tirade because I'm all out of steam, and for once in our lives he really is the rational one.

"Oh."

He smiles, a sickly thing that makes a nasty cut on his temple stretch and leak more blood down his face. "We've always known where'd he go when this ended. Let him be now Mione. Whether or not…Malfoy is still alive, let him be. We have our work here, and he has his elsewhere. Let it go."

And I have to realize that as of the moment Voldemort's disgusting soul left his body, Harry was no longer obliged to take any part in our war. He didn't have to be here now, to clean things up, to heal people or to round up everyone left over. There were others to do those jobs, adults whose brains weren't scarred by the things that Harry's was.

If he had one other thing happen to him now, he just might snap, and no-one wanted to see that. I loved him, I really did, but I couldn't help him any more now than Ron could. He had separated from us, and the only person he needed right now was somewhere deep in St. Mungo's.

So we let him go, safe with the idea in our minds that he was with Draco Malfoy, and whether or not he had lived through the night they were together.

Safe. Happy, maybe, even.

_We can hope. For their sakes._

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**A/N:** THANK YOU FOR STICKING THROUGH IT ALL! This story's nearly finished, so thank you to the reviewers:

**-Fire-Arisa-Ice-,** **ashmoon,** **Julia,** **Dark-lighter0405,** **YamiYama,** **like whoa,** **Crysania Fay,** **txcalbud,** **MimiTaylor,** **Mystiqal Neko,** **brionyjae,** **iamanevilgenius,** **& not the usual baka!**

Please keep reviewing and thank you for all the support,

love,

mintapotter


	28. Life and Love

**Title:** Unseen Threads

**Author: **mintapotter

**A/N: **Well, that's all folks.This isthe end, and thank you to **everybody** for reviewing.

Enjoy.

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**Chapter 28 - Life and Love**

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Moments like this one come along very, very sparsely in life.

I am so scared right now, so very terrified of what I'll find once I enter St. Mungo's that I'm not sure if this fear is worth facing.

I'm terrified of Draco still being sick, and having killed Voldemort for nothing.

_Well, not nothing, but not the reason I was in such a haste to do it._

And I'm terrified that he will look at me as a murderer if he is still alive; that he'll stray away from my touch and won't be able to look me in the eye anymore because he'll only ever think of my hands as those which strangled the life from another person. I'm afraid that he'll look at me differently now.

But on top of all those fears are those that Draco's spirit isn't there anymore. That it didn't make it back to his body. I'm afraid that I'll kiss him one last time and it will be cold and dry and unmoving.

I'm afraid that the rest of my life will be spent alone, one huge 'what if' of what would have happened if Draco had lived.

And my mind is whirring even though my body is shutting down. I'm too scared to get to his room, so instead of taking the elevator, I take the stairs. And I'm shaking; my hands are dripping Voldemort's metaphorical blood everywhere, spreading it on the stairs behind me, my robes, and my skin.

_Maybe Draco can see it? Maybe he can see it too and he'll never let me touch him again and he'll hate me for killing and he'll take one look at me a scream in disgust-_

And then I think that Draco's screaming right now maybe, dying with _no-one­ _there. Nobody to even soothe his fears or hold his hand.

My throat hurts because it wants to sob with worry and I'm running, shaking and running with all the adrenaline my body can produce. I'm running two steps at a time, leaping the stairs and barely counting the floors until I've reached his floor and his room is only a few hundred feet away.

The hallway is empty. Silent as death itself, clean and clinical as anything.

It's because everyone's families here have left. The other patients are all dead and gone, and their families left with them. I'm the only one here.

_Because there's one more patient still here…right?_

A Healer turns a corner and stops dead, watching me with an astonished look of awe on her face.

"Are…are the rumors true?" she whispers, dropping a stack of parchment and quills and charts on the floor in her haste to reach me.

"Is it true, what happened in the Ministry? Are the rumors true?"

I shake my head in denial of anything and keep my eyes locked on the doors as they flash past me, because I'm running past her and her screamed questions.

I'm counting the doors down to 1.

_17…15…13…_

"There's no one down there! Where are you running?" the Healer yells at my back, but I'm not listening to a word coming from her mouth. She doesn't know this floor; she doesn't know that of course there is one patient left.

_9…7…5_

My lungs feel like they're burning themselves, I've been running so long and so hard. My legs are shuddering and my arms are trembling but I won't stop running until I've reached my goal.

_3…1._

The moment of truth.

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Pain has become less of an occurrence in my life, and more of a feature.

I wake up, my eyes burn from the light that comes through my lids. I try and move and muscles bruise nearly by themselves. A door opens and closes because someone is visiting someone else down the hall and I hear it.

At least, people used to visit.

Now, I'm starting to think that I'm the only one left on this floor. It would only make sense that I was the first to be brought in with this terrible, horrible disease Voldemort created and then be the last to leave.

It would be only fitting, I believe.

But since the last time Harry was here…I know I'll be last of the infected to die, but I don't know if I'll live long enough to see him again or not.

It's a toss up every day; live or die. Linger or perish. Pain or sweet, sweet release.

And I woke up, not long ago, as though I had had the most peaceful sleep in my life. As though I had slept for weeks or months without tossing or turning. It might only have been minutes ago, perhaps hours. It's hard to tell in here.

And a Healer was at my bedside, checking the gold watch at his wrist and jotting down the time, not caring for the world that every rustle of his clothes was making scratching noises I could have heard down the hall. Seeing as how I long ago lost the ability to speak, I simply stared at him until he looked up from his paper and noticed me.

And man, did I make him jump. He looked fit to scream like a little girl, but luckily caught himself at the last moment. How fitting _that_ would have been, to have been killed by a high pitched scream.

His shock wore off quickly enough, and he stayed only long enough to mouth the words 'Hang on' and smile.

After he left, I pieced together the scenario slowly in my mind, and realized quite dimly that I might have died there. If only for a minute, I was really gone. Out of body. I was a silent, cold, unmoving corpse there for a second.

_But it felt so calm._

And that's the thought I keep coming back to. What if I 'hang on' here long enough to set some kind of record, what if I just live on like I am now…and it's all for nothing?

What if Harry's dead and no-one gives enough of a shit about me to tell me? What if they're _all_dead, from whatever plan they ran off to complete? I could just linger on, waiting for him like some kind of damsel in distress and never give up hope in seeing him come back…and it could all be for nothing.

_Maybe the calm's worth the chance._

However…the pain's not so bad now. Perhaps that is simply the last stage of life; the absence of pain. Maybe my brain is so addled by everything that it can't process torture anymore.

But no…this isn't the lack of pain that I feel, it _normalcy_ again. I can open my eyes and they don't just not burn and ache, they process what's around me for once. And my hands with holes in them that never stop bleeding, well they still hurt. But they're not cold! I can feel the tips again and-

I'm far too excited over this. So the agony is lessening; the permanent damage is still done. There are still cuts and bruises and sores and so much fucking _damage_ that even if I really wanted to jump out of this goddamn bed and jump for joy, I'd probably break something.

_So I wait._

And I'll wait for an explanation of all this.

Maybe I'm better because Voldemort's dead…

_Maybe it's all an illusion._

So in the end…all I can do is wait. All I need is one solid piece of evidence that this is all, one day, going to look like a bad dream.

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Stepping into Draco's room and hearing the familiar _whir_ sound of the purifying space around me feels like hours in time. It keeps all the dust from aggravating him, it keeps me sanitized enough that bacteria on me won't kill him in minutes. The spells are a precaution, and a comfort. But the damn thing seems to be taking so _long_, and now that I'm here I just can't wait and what if I'm too late because I'm standing here and-

The spells stop. I can walk right on through the door before me, but instead I run to Draco's bedside and with all the strength in my whole body I don't grab him. I don't kiss him. I don't caress his cheek or lay beside him.

I watch him instead, the only condolence I'm allowed.

And he's lying still as death and the same washed out white colour as his sheets. But …he's breathing! And his eyes, with great trepidation open slowly to look at me, and then in a panic they close again.

_NO. Please no, don't let him be able to see the blood too! Don't let him know me as a murderer instead of a lover, please, if anything today goes right just don't let him look at me with revulsion…_

His words are low and very, very soft, but they manage to break through my brain's relentless tirade.

"You're not real, are you? This isn't real, I'm dead, aren't I?"

I thought that words would come easy once I was in here, once I could see him alive and well again, but they clog and get blocked up in my throat. I can only sigh in relief, and try and push sounds past the growing lump in my throat.

"No, I'm here. I'm real Draco, I swear to you. I'm…back."

He shakes his head, his delicate face scrunching against my voice. "It can't be real. I'm dreaming or I'm dead, it can't be real, I won't be fooled…"

"Draco please! It's me, Harry! I'm here." I want to scream but that would cause him more pain than my life is worth so I pour all the emotion I can into my pleading whispers instead. Tears leak through his pale eyelashes even though his eyes are still resolutely closed, and that's when it hits me.

He's talking without a rasp. His hands are clenched closed, but they're not bleeding. His cheeks aren't quite so ghastly pale as I had thought; they even managed a tinge of pink.

_He's not just alive, he's well. He's better…_

"It can't be…" he murmurs, tears streaming down his face and he just won't open his eyes!

My words won't get through to him; even he thinks that this is too good to be true. Actions always speak louder than words; that's what they say. I take up on the advice.

"I'll prove it to you, then." I say the words loud and clear and his eyes open at the sound, but they close again because I've shut him up with a kiss.

And god, a kiss was all we needed.

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I'm crying so stupidly now that I'll probably regret it if I live to remember this moment.

I can't believe that the pain that seemed so everlasting and constant, is gone. I can't believe that Harry's back and whole and in one piece, and standing _right there_ next to me. I can't believe that he's alive, that he came back, that I'm better all at the same time.

Some things are just too good to be true, and this is one of those moments.

"It can't be…" I murmur, I want it to be. I want this to be real. I want to have Harry back, I want to be better again. I want this so bad that it can't be real.

"I'll prove it to you, then."

I have to open my eyes to chance a look at Harry then, because this is first sound above a whisper I've heard in _so long_. And it's his voice, loud and strong and clear, even though I can tell that he's close to crying too.

And then he kisses me and my eyes flutter shut of their own accord, because _this_ is real. _This_ isn't something I could dream, _this_ isn't something that my mind could make up.

And I've needed _this_ and so much more, for so, so long.

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Kissing Draco seems better than even I can remember. And my hands don't care about rules or sickness or anything, and they caress his face just the way I've wanted to do. Our lips won't break apart so I crawl up on the bed beside him and let my hands touch the cool skin of his cheeks, his neck, his shoulders.

I can scarcely breathe by the time we break apart, my hands draped behind his neck and his holding my head close still. Our foreheads touch and or noses are millimeters away and when I open my eyes to look into his they nearly cross because we're so close.

"He's gone, isn't he." Draco says this without a questioning tone in his voice. It's a statement. He doesn't have to tell me that the he in question is Voldemort either.

"Yes." I answer quietly, neither of us moving away from each other.

"And you're still here, and so am I." he adds this again, and I simply answer 'yes' again, both our voices getting stronger as the seconds tick by.

"And before anyone can interrupt, or anything else goes wrong I want to be with you."

I can barely breathe out 'yes' that time, because Draco has the knack for saying something unexpected. He has a talent for knocking the breath right on out of me.

We don't share words but simply unfold our legs from his bed and begin to walk out of his room, the silent, quiet, secluded place that it is. We can't stop holding each other, even if we were just holding hands, because I think that a little bit in both our minds thinks that _this_ is all somehow a dream.

When we got to the stairs I realized that even if Draco is better, that the curse had been lifted along with Voldemort's death, he was still not perfectly healthy. The long trek downstairs would tire him more than I could bear to watch, so I swept him right off his feet and began to carry him down the flights as carefully as I could. He doesn't have to thank me, his warm breath on my neck is thanks enough.

This is bliss. This is happiness and love and everything I've ever wanted, and one of the darkest days of my life is slowly turning around to be one of the most beautiful.

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Harry, ever the gentleman, carried me down however many flights of stairs without a word passed between us. Like the time he left me all those white roses in my room, I didn't have to ask for him to treat me like I was something special. He always did it because he wanted to, and that made me love him for just what he was. Harry.

The pull of apparation was only a little startling after we had left the confining walls of St. Mungo's, but our destination was clear.

_Number 12 Grimmauld Place_.

Where so much had occurred between us, it was where we were meant to be. I hadn't wanted to stay a moment longer in my hospital room because it only represented death and suffering. It was a place I never wanted to return to, not for as long as I lived.

And now, here we were. Harry let me stand on my own two feet and held my hand as we ascended the stairs to the house, together. We were silent all the way from the front door to his bedroom, which in and of itself is nothing spectacular. Its room with a bed and sidetable, like any other. It's a room which was always just four walls to Harry.

And now it'll be _ours_. When the Order no longer has a function and everyone else has moved out, this will always be our room.

And this is our time together, time we will not waste thinking about others.

We stand shoulder to shoulder in the doorway, and Harry still won't let go of my hand when he moves to shut the door. He turns to face me and lowers his eyes until I can't hide my gaze anywhere else.

"Are you sure Draco? Are you sure that you're not still too hurt or-"

"Harry, I've wanted this for so long you could not believe me. I've been treated like a china doll for much too long, and I haven't been touched by another person since I fell ill. I want this. I want you, from now until the day that we die. And if we die tomorrow, I want to have done this, even if it was just once. Please. Trust me."

Harry can tell that I'm not lying to please him, that this is something that I want as much as he does. We don't have to be awkward with each other because we're closer than any two other people on the whole planet, if just for this moment. He kisses me again and we move as one to the bed, not caring about the outside world in turmoil and panic.

Harry knows me better than I know myself now. He knows that I don't just want him; I need him.

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Making love isn't something that I could have imagined. Sure, I had thought that it would be fantastic, but not like this. Nothing like this. Imagination can't even compare to the real thing

Like how when we take off each others clothes it isn't something that embarrasses us; it's something liberating. Like how I can't hear anything but Draco's voice and his soft, deep breathing. Like how our bodies have to have been made for each other because we fit together so _perfectly_.

And Draco beneath me is the single most sensual, sexy, beautiful thing in the whole wide world. I can feel his heart beating through the bone of his ribs and the thin layer of his skin and mine which are the only things that are separating us. I can feel his breath go from soft to hard and warm to hot on my neck as he pants my name and sounds that sometimes aren't even words. His hands find strength when they scramble and scratch a little at my back, or pull my head forward into a kiss.

His voice lowers and sounds husky when he tells me yes or no, faster or slower and my body obeys his every command. I want to do anything he tells me to. I'd die now, if he asked me to. I'll do anything to please him, forever.

And it's more than just using his body to get off with. It's so much more than just a fuck, or something forgettable. I want to pleasure him the same way he wants to pleasure me, and that's love. Unconditional love.

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Harry is careful, so, so, so careful with me. He treats me with an ultimate sort of reverence, and seems to revere every inch of my skin. His kisses a trail from my neck downwards, carefully undoing buttons and touching everything he can get his hands on. He's careful with me.

And once Harry's actually inside me, I can't help but to thank him for his patience, because he doesn't let me hurt. It's something new and breathtaking and it shatters all my expectations, but he won't let me hurt. He stops almost the moment before I ask him to because he can read my feelings almost through my skin. We heat up and the pink flush on his cheeks turns a bright crimson red as time passes. His hair and mine is damp with sweat, some of the black hair from his fringe sticking to his forehead and to the back of his neck. I notice only vaguely that his scar is faded but still there, as it probably always will be.

Harry bites his bottom lip until I think it'll bleed and turns his face away from mine, into my shoulder when he comes. He can't help but break down a little bit, and he bites my shoulder only lightly, not even hard enough to leave a mark. Harry has the self restraint of a saint when it comes to keeping me from harm. His breathing is so ragged that I think he's sobbing, but slowly he calms down and looks up at me with that same reverence in his eyes, but says nothing.

He keeps on staring at me long after he's pulled out of my body, and still long after his hand starts to stroke my own erection and leads me to my own orgasm. This isn't jacking off. This isn't a hand job, a one off.

This is special.

I come only some moments after Harry does, but it doesn't have to be at the same time to make it perfect. For all he did not to hurt me, I'm pleasantly sore and wouldn't do a thing to change it. I didn't even realize that I had closed my eyes because when I open them, Harry's emerald ones are staring directly into my face with a tender smile on his face.

"You're gorgeous Draco. I love you."

I relax my shoulders and lay back into the pillows propped behind my head, Harry lying beside me, stuck skin to skin because of our sweat and mess. We don't care. Never will. The single sheet draped over us doesn't keep out the chill of the air on our cooling skin, but we're happy as we are. Together.

"Thank you Harry. For coming back. I need you…I love you too."

Harry's grip around me tightens for a moment, and then relaxes. The look on his face tells me that he has something to say, something important.

"I've got a world of things to tell you Draco. And once we leave here, the whole Wizarding world will need my story too."

I nod and he closes his eyes, losing the need to jump up and save the world from panic once again. "Just stay here a minute, and tell me what you must when you want to. We'll leave together and explain together, when you're ready. Rest Harry. It's well deserved."

I can feel the tension building in him again, and then it bursts like a dam.

"I killed Voldemort Draco. With my own hands, I killed him."

"I know." I whisper, breathing deeply. "Not all the details, but I know. It's hard Harry, it must be hard for you, but you're not what you think you are. You're not a cold blooded killer."

Harry breathes more raggedly because I think that he's going to cry, but I lay a hand on his back and rub small circles to calm him again. The tension in him dissipates again, slowly.

"You did it because you had to, not because you wanted to. You're not like him Harry, you never will be. You're not a murderer in my eyes. I still love you, and I'll fight with you against anything in this world that means to do you harm now."

"Thank you Draco. I need you and I'll never leave you. I swear that I'll love you and never harm you. I swear."

"I know Harry. I know. And you'll always know that I love you too."

And so we lay in silence and understanding. We love each other, and the whole world couldn't pull us apart. Our families couldn't, our friends couldn't, Voldemort couldn't and neither could the uproar of the public.

We love each other.

And nothing and nobody could pull us apart.

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**A/N: **Well, the final chapter took me forever to write, but I'm happy with the results. I'm sorry to see this story end, but thanks for all the reviewers who stuck with it up till now:

**MimiTaylor,** **Dhowler,** **Tsukiakari-hoshi,** **ravendreamer04,** **Tosha,** **Alison,** **Mystiqal Neko,** **iamanevilgenius,** **Julia,** **brionyjae,** **Crysania Fay,** **YamiYama, txcalbud **& **Raping Time**! This was a joy to write because so many people read and reviewed it. Thanks to everyone!

Love,

mintapotter


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